Echoes
by LouBlue
Summary: Pre first-half S3 finale. "Some people see scars, & it is wounding they remember. To me they are proof of the fact that there is healing." The lives they used to live were gone. But how much of who they used to be had been swept away too? A story of two damaged souls discovering going forwards means going back & facing the things that once held you. Rated for language/adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N****: Okay, so, I've been holding off on getting into TWD ever since it first started, knowing I'd love it and wanting to be able to gorge myself on episode after episode. I think I did pretty well lasting out as long as I did. LOL I love everything Andrew Lincoln has ever done and has followed his career from the beginning. I loved him in 'Teachers', such a great comedy, found him compelling in 'Strike Back' playing against Richard Armitage and was kind of torn apart by his character in 'After Life' – man, that was an intense show. Anyways, I've loved all of his work, and seeing as I'm a bit of a Zombie fangirl, I knew this show was going to be the perfect storm of awesomeness. **

**And it is. ;) **

**Now, after all that waxing lyrical about AL, this story is actually about the incredibly intriguing relationship between Daryl and Carol... which is why you've kindly decided to check this out, I'm guessing. I just love broken, tortured characters with these giant hearts and I think Daryl and Carol are both just that. They've had devastating lives from what we've been told about them so far, but in this new world, they're coming into their own and actually making a place for themselves. I love that. :D **

**I love how unconventional their relationship is, how hard it is to define, in fact it actually defies it. I love that ambiguousness of something that can't be easily put into a neat box and a label slapped on it. The way the NR and MM are playing their character's interactions, it gives such depth and poignancy to their scenes, that romance almost seems redundant. Their emotional intimacy is growing scene by scene and this might just be because I'm of the female persuasion, but that is way more enthralling to me then sweaty sex up against a wall. **

**The way I'm seeing the Caryl relationship ATM is along the lines of the relationship a knight used to have with his queen, back in the day. There was a deep loyalty and an intensity to their devotion, that for obvious reasons, could never go any further. There was a kind of purity to their love that gave real meaning and pathos to it. I don't know if the writers ever intend to take Caryl to the next level, but I certainly hope they keep this kind of devotion to one another going. TWD showcases a lot of loss of humanity, by nature of the genre, and the Caryl relationship is a much needed dose of heart in amongst all the bleak reality of, you know, a Zombie apocalypse. LOL **

**I'm writing this story because, one, the voices in my head are commanding me to do it. O.o But, it's also a challenge. If anyone has read any of my fics before, you'll know that I love writing for ensemble casts because I'm a dialog ho, just love all that back and forth energy. However, as devotees no doubt know, Daryl... not that big of a talker. That's going to be a big challenge to me to have him stay true to form. He has bursts of dialog, most often with Carol, so that works for me, but I don't want to turn him into a Chatty Cathy, because that is just not how Daryl Dixon rolls. ;) **

**The other problem for me is that I tend towards a comedic air in a lot of my stories. I relish the absurd but again, that's not the overtone of TWD. Apparently, when the world ends with the undead trying to eat the flesh off you bones, there isn't much to laugh about. Who'd have thunk it? LOL I have to reign in my love for comedic moments as much as I can, but knowing my limits, I've decided to give myself some wiggle room and use the most comedic character on the show right now (you know, before they kill him, because this is TWD) to drive this story – Axel. Ah, the bearded stoner with the motor mouth, what a perfect foil you make for the recalcitrant Daryl who is one step away from communicating in clicks and whistles. **

**Let the good times roll. :D **

**Okay, congrats if you made it through that huge monologue of an a/n. You can always tell how excited I am by something by the length of my a/n's. **

**Thanks for checking the story out, hope you enjoy...**

**Chapter One **

Carol dragged her trowel through the freshly up-turned dirt, making a neat line to plant out the lettuce seeds in. The group had worked hard to get the enclosed area of the prison ready to take a crop and now it was finally ready to plant. Multiple runs into town had stocked them up pretty well with various seeds and utensils, now it was just a matter of planting everything and praying it would grow. A sustainable food source was vital if they had any chance of surviving long term in the relative safety of the prison. Carol planted out the row and moved to do the next. She'd been at it for a couple of hours now and had a lot to show for her hard work. It felt good to be doing something positive for a change. Her life had become so much about death, it was a welcome relief to be encouraging life, instead of always ending it. Carol wiped at her sweaty brow with the back of her hand but didn't stop working.

She could feel his eyes on her as she worked quietly away, but then, she could always feel his eyes watching her. It had been the same with Ed, even though the feeling had been completely different. Carol used to feel her husband's dark and controlling gaze on her without even looking. She could feel his rage and violence rolling out across a crowded room, finding her, demanding her subservience otherwise there would be hell to pay. There usually was hell to pay anyway. There had been no way to appease Ed Peletier because there was something missing deep inside of him. Something he'd expected Carol and their daughter to fill, but they never would be able to. Carol had hated the feeling of always being watched, her actions always judged and found wanting. It had made her skin crawl and want to just disappear inside herself, so that no one could see her, least of all Ed.

But it was different with Daryl.

Daryl's eyes on her never felt demanding or like an invasion. It made Carol feel safe to know that he was currently standing on top of the overturned bus, on the lookout for any Walkers which might breach the fences surrounding them. She didn't have to turn around to know that he'd be standing there, looking relaxed, crossbow dangling from his arm while his gaze swept the area over and over again. Carol also didn't need to turn around to know when that same blue-eyed gaze would settle on her briefly before heading back to the fences. She wasn't sure when it had happened exactly, but Carol knew that she'd become Daryl's point of reference in the group. He was an integral part of the group now, but she and Daryl were their own kind of group first. It had started while they'd been looking for Sophia, but it was only after having to bury her daughter that the shift had happened. Daryl had been intent on isolating himself from the rest of the group and Carol understood why. He'd let himself care about something other than his own survival and the worst had happened. Daryl had just wanted that distance back, so that he wouldn't have to deal with his pain and worse, the pain of others, her pain, anymore.

But Carol hadn't let him.

She wouldn't let Daryl retreat away from the only source of comfort left in this world, the group. None of them were perfect and they had their share of fights and conflict but they were the only home any of them had left now. She'd lost everything that mattered in the world to her when Sophia died, and Carol had been determined that she wasn't going to lose anyone else, at least not willingly. She'd fought to keep him from disappearing inside of himself and eventually her dogged determination had seen Daryl walk back into the group, ready to stand in their number, instead of always off to one side. Carol had a feeling that no one had ever fought for Daryl his entire life. What little she knew of his parents told her that they'd never cared for their son and protected him as parents should and Carol had seen with her own eyes Daryl's relationship with his brother. Merle might think he was the one looking out for Daryl, but Carol saw different. She saw in Merle the same things she saw in her husband. They were angry, controlling men who ultimately thought of themselves first and others second. They might call themselves loyal and claim their actions as a man looking to protect family, but they weren't.

She'd fought for Daryl not to retreat into himself for her sake, but mostly for his and her determination had left a mark on both of them. No one had ever fought for her either and throughout all of this horror, she and Daryl had come to a silent understanding that they'd always be each other's first defender, even from themselves. Carol couldn't help but smile a little at that thought. Her whole life she'd felt helpless and ineffectual and believed herself useless. It was funny to think one person could change your idea of who you were so completely. Carol liked to think she'd returned the favour for Daryl.

"Looks like you could do with some help."

Carol started at the sound of Axel's voice behind her and she quickly twisted around from where she was kneeling in the dirt. She looked up at the other man, not happy that he was able to sneak up on her like that. Carol had learnt hyper-vigilance over this last year and it annoyed her to think she'd dropped her guard.

Axel stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya."

"You didn't," said Carol calmly, returning to her work.

Axel squatted down beside her. "If you want, I can help. I'm good with plants. Used to do some farming myself, back in the day."

Carol was conscious that they had all of Daryl's attention now. She glanced over towards him to see him staring at her and Axel, an unhappy expression on his face. Carol understood. None of them were completely at ease in the company of the newcomers. Theirs was such a tight knit group, who'd gone through so much together, it was hard to allow others in. Trust was a rare and precious commodity and no one handed it out lightly anymore. Carol had been as wary as everyone else but had to admit, she didn't find anything in particular about Axel to worry about. He was eager to please and while that could be a bit annoying, it wasn't a crime. "Let me guess," said Carol wryly. "That would be farming pot, right?"

"It's still a plant," he defended his choice of crop.

"Mm," said Carol, not commenting further.

Axel grabbed up a pitchfork, still keen to help, despite Carol's lack of enthusiasm. "I'll turn over some more ground for you."

Carol stopped what she was doing briefly and looked at him. "I really don't need the help."

Axel grinned, making his handle-bar moustache do a little dance. "Everyone needs some help sometime, I reckon."

Carol shook her head and gave a little laugh. "I suppose they do."

Axel pointed his fork at an exposed piece of rock in the garden bed in front of them. "Look, you've still got rocks in here."

Carol went to pull the rock out just as Axel did the same thing, only he was using the fork. In his haste to be helpful, Axel ended up jamming the fork into Carol's hand as she put her hand on the rock. Carol screamed and pulled her hand away as pain shot up her arm. She went to stand up, but her knees seized from being in one position for too long. The result was Carol ended up toppling to one side, clutching her throbbing and now bleeding, gloved hand to her chest.

Axel looked stricken. "Oh shit," he said anxiously, "I'm real sorry. I didn't mean to do that."

"Carol!"

Carol heard Daryl shouting her name as she squeezed tightly on her bleeding hand with her other hand.

Axel was bending over her, concern written all over his face. "You okay? Is it bad?"

Before Carol could answer him, Axel was suddenly ripped from her view as Daryl grabbed him and dragged the hapless man away from her.

"What the hell did you do?!" Daryl screamed at Axel. "Get away from her!"

Carol glanced over at the nearby fence, seeing the Walkers already starting to congregate at the smell of fresh blood and raised voices.

Axel had his hands up in front of him, looking contrite as he stayed down on the ground. "It was an accident, man. I swear I didn't mean it."

Daryl made a violent motion towards him and Axel flinched away, rolling up in a protective ball. Daryl made a disgusted sound and then he was crouching down beside her. "What happened?" he asked urgently. "What did he do?" Daryl wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled on it, wanting to see the damage for himself.

Carol grimaced as she gingerly let him uncurl her hand. Blood was soaking through her gardening glove.

Daryl threw Axel an enraged look. "You son of a bitch!"

"It was an accident," whined Axel. "I didn't mean no harm."

"It was an accident," agreed Carol, cursing herself for her carelessness. She scowled. "I'm so stupid, it's my right hand, I'm not going to be able to shoot right for days." It was all she could think of. Her lack of attention had made the group more vulnerable.

"You ain't the stupid one," said Daryl, treating Axel to another angry glare. His attention was back on Carol. "We've got to take the glove off, see how bad it is."

"I know," Carol sighed. She gritted her teeth and didn't complain as Daryl pulled off her glove. Carol watched him, face set in a scowl of concentration as he tried not to hurt her and she was struck yet again by the many different sides to this man. To look at him anyone would think they were looking at a violent and angry redneck, and while Daryl certainly knew how to hold his own, Carol knew there was so much more to him. He was capable of great tenderness which his gruff exterior belied. Watching him holding Judith or now, carefully examining her bleeding hand, Daryl could definitely be gentle when he wanted to.

Daryl's face darkened as he took a closer look at her hand. "It's deep," he said unhappily, taking in the puncture wound on the top of her hand, just between her thumb and index finger.

Carol made a frustrated sound. "We can't really spare the bandages," she fretted, still annoyed with herself. "Damn it."

"It's still bleeding pretty bad." He stood up and then bent down to help her to her feet. "Come on, we gotta get you to Hershel."

Carol shook her head. "I can find my own way." She inclined her head towards the fence. "You need to get back on lookout." Daryl's face hardened, obviously unhappy with her solution but Carol knew the group's safety was more important. "Go on, I'll be fine."

"I'll take you," said Axel, trying to be helpful as he went to stand up too.

"You stay away from her!" Daryl barked at him.

Carol gave a little shake of her head at Axel, warning him not to push it. She looked back at Daryl and smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine. I'll be back in a few minutes, once I've cleaned up." Carol felt his gaze on her as she walked away, felt his concern as he watched to make sure she made it safely back into the prison. The Walkers snarled and hissed at her through the wire of the fences. They lunged for her as they were driven into a frenzy by the smell of her blood, dripping freely from her hand. Was there ever going to be a day in this new world where one of them wasn't bleeding from a new wound, she wondered in exasperation.

Probably not.

**A/N****: Okay, so, it's probably a bit hard to see where I'm going with all of this from the first chapter, but hang in there, I do have a point. And it's a point that will see a deepening of the relationship between Caryl as they attempt to define the undefinable. ;) Next chapter is written, just waiting to see how interested folks are. Let me know and thanks for reading. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N****: Hello all and an especially big thank you to those who took the time to comment. You're all brilliant. :D Lovely to see some of my ducklings from my other stories finding their way here. I love knowing we share the same ships. ;) And greyhoundgirl, good luck with your first fic. :D You've picked a great show with rich characters to dive into. Writing is both a thrilling and terrifying endeavour as you let people inside your head. It's an oddly intimate experience, made even more so by formats like FF, where you get that reader feedback. I promise you, it'll become addictive and good on you for putting fingers to keyboard. I always love hearing people say they have stories to tell in their head and wanting to share them. It's very exciting. **

**Okay, so this fic is shaping up nicely in my head, or at least, I hope it is. This story has a bit of language in it. It's a bit hard not to when you're writing for Daryl. LOL I'm going to be interested to see what you make of this chapter. **

**Hope you enjoy... **

**Chapter Two **

"There," said Hershel, cutting off the suture, "that should hold it."

Carol smiled in gratitude even as she was still shaking a little from the pain of the procedure. Getting stitches without any painkillers wasn't any fun, but she'd endured worse. "Thank you. I didn't think it'd need stitches."

"It was deep and a hard place for a wound to heal," Hershel cautioned her. "It's always moving. Those internal stitches and the ones on the outside should hold it a bit better so it can close up properly. The last thing we want is for you to get an infection out of all of this."

Rick, Oscar, Maggie and Glenn walked into the cell block from where they'd been cleaning out more Walkers from other areas of the jail. Rick immediately walked over to where Carol and Hershel were sitting. "What happened? Are you alright, Carol?"

"Yes, I'm fine," said Carol as Hershel started to bandage her hand. "It was just a stupid accident."

"What happened?" asked Glenn, also looking concerned.

Carol gave a dry laugh. "Axel decided to help me with the planting and stabbed me with a garden fork instead."

Rick looked less than thrilled to hear this. "Axel did this to you?"

"Not intentionally. He was trying to help, only, he didn't."

Oscar grunted. "Yeah, the guy's real accident prone… and you know, an idiot."

"Not a great combination," noted Hershel, packing away the medical supplies. He looked at Carol. "We'll check that dressing tomorrow morning. I want to make sure you don't get an infection, alright, young lady?"

Carol smiled at the white-haired man who had become so dear to her. "Yes, Doctor."

"I'll take your laundry shift today," offered Maggie helpfully. "You can't get that hand wet."

Carol reached out and squeezed the young woman's arm with her good hand. "That's kind, Maggie but I can do it fine one-handed. I've had experience. I broke my wrist a couple of years back and managed just fine." That wasn't strictly true, Ed had been the one to break her wrist. Carol sensed the others suspected as much, but none of them said anything, which she appreciated. She stood up. "Well, those lettuces aren't going to plant themselves."

"No," said Rick firmly, stepping in, "we don't want to risk an infection with you digging in the dirt, Carol." He smiled at her. "I'd sure appreciate you sticking close to Judith these next couple of days."

"I don't need to be babied," she said determinedly.

"Yeah, well," drawled Rick, "my daughter does." His face softened. "And she loves her Aunt Carol."

"Nice, Grimes," said Carol, feigning begrudging acquiescence, "tug on my heart strings."

Rick's lips quirked. "I play dirty," he conceded. "It's kinda how I roll these days."

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl stalked back and forth on top of the overturned truck, keeping an eye on the Walkers and the fences but also regularly looking over to the gate which led back into the prison. Carol had said she'd be right back, what was taking so damn long? He shot an angry look over at Axel who was meekly planting out the rest of the seeds.

Axel looked up and caught Daryl staring at him. "I told you, man," he called out to him, "it was an accident. I didn't mean Carol no harm."

Daryl jabbed a pissed off finger at him. "And I told you not to talk, dumbass. You're lucky I left you with teeth in your head."

"If you want, I'll go and apologise again," offered up Axel, always eager to please.

"What I want is for you to shut the fuck up and if I see you within a hundred yards of her again or even sayin' her name, I'm going to give those Walkers some dumbass to chew on." Daryl watched in disbelief as Axel stopped what he was doing and walked over to stand by the overturned bus Daryl was standing on. This guy couldn't take a hint, even if that hint was seconds from being shoved down his throat.

Axel craned his head back to talk up to him. "So, are you two steppin' out together or what?"

"What?" asked Daryl harshly. The question was ridiculous on so many levels. They were in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, surviving was the only thing any of them had time for.

"You and Carol," said Axel, seeming oblivious to the danger he was in. "You seem mighty protective of her."

"We're all protective of each other," he growled, "'specially when assholes are stabbing us with pitchforks."

"You know she's not a lesbian, right?"

Daryl blinked and then just stared down at him.

"I mean, I asked and she told me."

What the fuck was wrong with this guy? Daryl continued to stare at Axel, his face hard and unreadable.

"It's just that if you and she ain't doin' it, I thought I'd give it a go," said Axel casually. "I don't want to step on nobody's toes or nuthin' but it's been a long time between drinks of water, if you get my drift."

Daryl lifted his crossbow up and sized up Axel in his sights.

Axel looked confused by this latest act of aggression. "So, what, you are doin' her then? You want me to back off your woman?"

Daryl's finger tightened on the trigger, weighing up the consequences of getting rid of this annoying waste of space.

"You fixin' to shoot someone, Daryl?"

Daryl didn't take his eyes off the stressed looking Axel in his sights as he answered Rick, the other man having just walked up. "I'm thinkin' about it."

"I came to tell you Carol's fine."

"She ain't fine," said Daryl flatly, "thanks to shit for brains here."

"Again, real sorry 'bout that," said Axel quickly. He gave Rick a pleading look. "Please don't let him kill me. I was only trying to help Carol."

"What did I just tell you about sayin' her name?" bit out Daryl angrily.

Axel made a confused face. "Well, what do you want me to call her then? What's the opposite of a lesbian called? An un-lesbian? Anti-lesbian?"

Daryl lowered his crossbow and shook his head in amazement. "Just how much weed did you used to smoke, man? It's like you ain't got two brain cells to rub together."

Rick interceded. "Axel, why don't you go back to planting?"

Axel gave Daryl an anxious look. "You ain't gonna shoot me in the back as I walk away, are you?"

"Only one way to find out," said Daryl, face set in stone.

Axel turned around and with a last frightened glance at Daryl, hurried back to his seeds.

Daryl watched him go. "Tell me again why we ain't killin' these guys?" he asked in ire.

"We need the muscle," said Rick simply. "Our numbers are down and we're really feeling the loss of T-Dog."

"He ain't no T-Dog," bit out Daryl unhappily.

"No, he ain't," agreed Rick readily. He inclined his head. "I've come to relieve you. You need to get some rest. You've been on guard half the night."

"I'm fine."

"It wasn't a question."

Daryl looked down at him. "You pullin' rank?"

"If I have to."

Daryl shrugged and climbed down off the truck and stopped in front of Rick. "If you happen to be cleanin' your gun up there and it accidentally goes off and takes that guy's head off, I'm just lettin' you know now, I'm fine with that."

Rick half-smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

Daryl slung his crossbow over his shoulder and headed back into the prison, throwing one last menacing look at Axel as he passed by. The other man quickly looked away and Daryl hoped he was taking his threats seriously. They'd all been through so much, had fought tooth and nail to survive and he was going to be damn if some whacked out, pot smoking piece of shit was going to threaten that. He wasn't happy with Rick's decision to keep Oscar and Axel in their number. He understood it, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Daryl didn't trust the other men. They were an unknown quantity to him and this world had enough uncertainty in it already. For the first time in his life, Daryl had people in his life that were important to him, other than his brother. People he needed to do everything he could to keep safe. He wasn't going to let a couple of two-bit criminals threaten that. He walked through the prison doors and along the corridors which lead to their sleeping quarters. Daryl walked in and looked around.

"She's up with Judith," offered up Beth from where she was preparing some food.

Daryl nodded his thanks and walked up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He laid down his crossbow in his bed area and then continued onto the cell which Rick shared with his daughter. Daryl leaned on the cell door and inclined his head towards where Carol was feeding Judith a bottle. "Hey," he said by way of greeting. Daryl took in her heavily bandaged hand as his gaze swept over her.

Carol looked up from the baby and smiled. "Hey." She inclined her head down at the contentedly suckling Judith. "I'm on baby duty until further notice."

Daryl nodded, happy to hear that. "How's the hand?"

"Well," said Carol straight-faced, "I'm afraid it's the end of my career as a concert pianist. It's a shame, I was booked for a European tour next month." She looked at her bandaged hand. "But, apart from that, Hershel said I'd live." Carol arched an eyebrow and looked him over. "I don't see any blood on you. Can I assume Axel is also still in one piece?"

Daryl grunted. "For now."

Carol shook her head and went back to the baby, still smiling. "He's harmless."

"Right, so I imagined him sticking you with that pitchfork, huh?"

Carol gave a little laugh. "Alright, harmless might not be the right word for him."

"I got a word for him," Daryl grumbled.

"Not in front of the baby," she teased him. "I want her to be at least six months old before she hears her first cuss word."

Daryl's lips quirked. "She's hangin' with the wrong crowd for that wish to come true."

Carol laughed. "I suppose she is."

Daryl nodded, reassured Carol was going to be alright and headed off to grab some shut eye.

**oooOOOOooo**

The group sat around the communal eating area, eating dinner, the only people missing were Oscar and Axel, because it was his turn on guard duty.

"Guess what tomorrow is?" said Glenn around a mouthful of squirrel.

"Another day in paradise?" dead-panned Rick.

"No," said Glenn, not put off, "it's June 21st, the summer solstice."

Carol's head came up at that and she looked at Glenn in surprise. "How do you know that?" It'd been too hard to keep a handle on days and months while you were fighting for you existence day in and day out. The group just kept a rough guide based on whether the weather was getting colder or warmer as to where they were in a calendar year.

"We were cleaning out Walkers and made it to the Warden's office," said Glenn conversationally. "He had one of those calendar clocks, you know, the type that run on batteries and it was still ticking over."

"Now that would be a good commercial for those batteries," observed Hershel. "We'll keep working, even until the end of the world."

"Yeah, only no one is around to buy them," said Maggie wryly.

"Do you remember when money was useful?" asked Glenn. He shook his head. "Man, that feels like a long time ago."

"What's the summer solstice?" asked Carl.

"It's the longest day of the year," said Glenn.

Hershel shook his head. "Not exactly. It's when the axis tilt of the earth is most inclined towards the sun. That means the sun reaches its highest point in the sky on that day."

"Oh," said Carl.

Rick sighed. "You're missing out on a lot of schooling."

"All the children are," pointed out Maggie. "So much information is going to be lost because of all of this."

Daryl snorted. "What good is books and learnin' in this world? All you need to do is know how to shoot straight and use a knife."

"Maybe some folks want more for their kids then being-," Maggie stopped abruptly.

Daryl glanced up from his plate of food. "What, a dumb redneck?"

"I didn't say that," she said hastily. "You know this group would be lost without you, Daryl."

"Yeah," drawled Daryl, straight-faced, "nobody wants us rednecks around until there is a zombie apocalypse and then suddenly we're the freakin' belles of the ball."

Carol couldn't help herself. She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand to try and stifle it. Daryl shot her a quick look, a rare impish look in his eyes. The others joined in, the tension easing in the room.

"We need to make a run out to town tomorrow," said Rick when the laughter had died down. "We're almost out of baby formula for Judith and diapers."

"She poops a lot," agreed Carl readily.

"No more than you at her age, pal," his father said with vague amusement.

Carl wrinkled up his nose. "Gross."

Axel walked into the room, having finished his shift as lookout. "Something smells good."

"Help yourself," Hershel invited him.

Axel quickly served himself up a plate of the squirrel stew and went to take a seat next to Carol.

Daryl didn't look up from his bowl. "No."

Axel hesitated and then went to take a seat beside Carl.

"No," Daryl repeated, the warning obvious in his voice.

Axel then tried to sit next to Beth.

"Oh, hell no," said Daryl harshly, still eating his stew.

Axel made and uncertain face and Daryl looked up, fixing him with a hard stare. The other man backed slowly away and ended up sitting over in the corner, away from the rest of the group. The others didn't comment, just continued eating, silently backing Daryl's decision.

Carol noticed they did that a lot these days, just backed one another without question. It was a testament to their closeness but in that moment, that was something she didn't actually want. "I'll go into town," Carol volunteered. "I haven't done a run for awhile, it'll be a nice change."

Rick looked concerned. "What about your hand?"

"I'll take a driver," said Carol easily. "Town has been quiet lately. There shouldn't be a problem."

"I'll go with you," said Daryl. "We can leave after breakfast tomorrow."

"I need you to help clear out the south gate," Rick reminded him.

"That can wait a day," argued Daryl.

"No," disagreed Carol, "too many Walkers are getting through these days. We need that secured. I'll take Axel."

"What?" asked Daryl, staring at her in disbelief.

"What?" asked Axel in even greater disbelief from his banishment in the corner.

Carol fixed Axel with a calm look. "You're fine with that, aren't you?"

Axel looked shocked. "Ah, yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that."

Rick was frowning at her. "Carol, are you sure about this?"

"Yes."

"The guy nearly killed you this morning," Daryl bit out. "Why would you want to put your life in shit for brain's hands?"

"No offence taken," called out Axel.

"Shut up, dumbass," growled Daryl, clearly not happy about this.

Carol looked around the ring of concerned face and knew she couldn't tell them the real reason she needed tomorrow just to be her and Axel. "Look, these guys are either part of the group or they aren't. If they're here to stay, then we have to work with them." She held Rick's gaze steadily. "You made the decision to allow them to stay. I'm just backing you on it."

Rick looked torn and he glanced over at Daryl who had a stony expression on his face as he went back to his stew, jabbing at the vegetables with unnecessary force.

"I-I can go with you and Axel, if you like, Carol," offered Beth timidly.

Carol smiled at her. "You need to stay with Judith, Beth. Axel and I will be fine, won't we Axel?"

"Totally," agreed Axel readily.

"Alright," agreed Rick reluctantly.

Daryl stood up abruptly and threw his empty bowl on the table where they did their washing up. He didn't look at any of them as he grabbed his crossbow. "I'm doin' a patrol," he said tersely and just kept walking.

Carol grimaced to see him go, but knew better than to go after him when he was in this kind of mood. Besides, she wasn't ready to talk about why she was doing this. Carol looked down at her stew, changing the subject. "This is really good, Beth."

"Yeah," agreed Glenn readily, seemingly eager to change the subject and release some tension as well. "You should put out a cookbook, a 101 ways with squirrel."

The rest of the group laughed and Carol joined in, not wanting anyone to worry about her anymore and especially about tomorrow. She had her own concerns about that...

**A/N****: So, anyone got any theories about what is going on with Carol right now? :D **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N****: A giant THANK YOU to all of my precious reviewers for leaving your thoughts on the first two chapters. I had such fun reading them. :D Ask any writer, wannabe or otherwise, feedback is like crack to us. LOL **

**Okay, so this chapter, well, this was such a satisfying one to write. I'm a bit wary though, because usually the chapters I really enjoy, others don't seem to get as much out of it. Meanwhile chapters I'm not that thrilled about, folks seem to love. **

**I don't know what's up with that. . **

**Anyways, this chapter is a lot of character analysis which I just adore. It's my take on a pivotal Daryl scene and as such, is just one interpretation of a complex and riveting scene, when there are actually probably quite a lot. What I love about TWD is that you get just as much, or even more information about the characters from scenes where there is no speaking, as you do from dialog heavy ones. That's really good writing being backed up by actors who really know their craft. Norman and Melissa play so well off each other and are just fearless in their scenes together. It's beautiful to watch because even though you know these characters aren't real, those two are making them just that. **

**Magical. **

**Anyways, once I saw this scene, I knew I'd have to write about it in some capacity, so here we are. There is a lot to take on in this chapter, so I hope I haven't overloaded you all, but let's see how we go, hmm? The beauty of a visual medium is that a look or action can convey something that literally takes a hundred words to capture. Or more in my case. **

**So, carry on reading while I nervously await your feedback on this chapter... **

**Chapter Three**

Daryl sat cross-legged on the hard concrete prison floor, rocking back and forth as he rhythmically drove Carol's knife into the ground in front of him over and over again. His gaze was fixed on the metal door in front of him, as he tried to find the strength to face what may be behind its nondescript façade. They'd passed the door on the way in, not thinking anything of the sounds of a weakened Walker trying to get out. But when Daryl had found Carol's knife sticking out of a Walker's neck, a horrible dread had filled his entire body. He'd lost her once, would God really be so cruel to take her from him again? Probably. Daryl never did understand that fucker's sense of humour. When they'd found T-Dog and Carol's head scarf, Daryl had assumed the worst. They all had. One of those piece of shit Walkers had killed her and only left scraps to bury. He and the others had scrapped up that mess of torn flesh and guts in that hallway and buried it in two graves, thinking they were burying T-Dog and Carol.

_But what if they were wrong? _

What if Carol had been only bit instead and been wandering around these prison corridors ever since? What if she was one of the things that had killed her own child and needing one of them to end her suffering, just like they'd had to with Sophia. Daryl's lips twisted, face hardening. That seemed like God's style, all that circle of life stuff and shit. _Well, fuck you, God._ Daryl drove his knife into the wall beside him in a fierce action, rage flooding through every fibre of his being. _Fuck you for making me lose her all over again, you prick. _The knife rammed into the wall again, causing small chunks of concrete to fly out but Daryl didn't even notice. He launched himself to his feet, stalking back and forth in front of the door, knowing that he had to do this. It had to be him. Carol would have wanted that. Daryl ground his teeth in impotent rage. _Fuck that, Carol would have wanted to live._ He threw the door an angry look as he stalked back and forth. This wasn't meant to be how it happened. Daryl already felt like he had Sophia's blood on his hands, how was he supposed to live with Carol's as well? She didn't deserve for this to be the way it ended. Hadn't God fucked over Carol enough with that piece of crap husband of hers and watching her daughter get her brains blown out? Did He really need to finish the job with forcing Daryl to cave her head in too? Daryl wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, but instead he grabbed at the body of the Walker blocking the door and dragged it out of the way.

Daryl straightened up, bracing himself for the worst. He gripped Carol's knife tightly in his hand and yanked open the door, body tensed for a fight. His left arm was raised protectively while his right hand held the knife over his head, ready to defend himself from whatever might leap out from the darkened room. Daryl squinted into the gloomy closet, eyes darting around as he looked for what had been making those noises. His gaze dropped to the body sitting on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled up in front. He recognised the slighter frame of a woman as she slowly turned her head up to look at him. The bottom dropped out of Daryl's world as he saw Carol's face but instead of those intent blue eyes seeking out his, clouded blood-shot eyes were staring up at him. Her cheeks were sunken, skin pale and starting to discolour in ugly splotches, rotting from the inside out. Daryl froze, unable to take his eyes off the sight of Carol as a Walker. He heard screaming and knew it must be him, but didn't know if it was out loud or just in his head. Daryl had allowed himself to dare to hope, just for a second and this was his reward? He hadn't been able to save Sophia, couldn't he have been given Carol? Just this one fucking time, could he have not lost someone he needed? His parents, his brother – it was like he was cursed to lose everyone he was ever stupid enough to care about.

Carol made a hissing noise, slowly climbing to her feet. She swayed unsteadily, dead eyes never leaving Daryl's stricken face. Carol turned towards him and shuffled out of the door, her hunger for living flesh driving her forward. Daryl took a step back, knife still raised above his head but he didn't deliver the kill strike. He could hear Merle's voice screaming in his head. _Do it, boy, kill her. It's all about survival of the fittest. Ain't nobody going to look after you except you. You remember that._ And Daryl had remembered that. His entire life he'd kept everyone at arm's length, focusing on protecting himself and no one else from the harsh realities of this world. He'd survived but then the end of the world had happened and suddenly he was in this group where all the rules changed. He'd been content to just stay alive, but then Carol hadn't let that be enough for him. She'd dragged him, kicking and screaming into a world where people mattered and he mattered to them. It was as terrifying as it was addictive.

In the beginning Daryl had struggled with these new feelings of belonging. They were foreign and he'd always been bracing himself to lose it in an instant. But, one nondescript day, he'd woken up and looked around as everyone went around the business of a new day in an apocalypse, and let himself truly believe he was where he was supposed to be. He belonged. For everyone else, they'd lost everything they'd ever had in this new world, but for Daryl, he'd found something he'd never known. He mattered. But belonging had a price. It meant other people had control over your emotions. All his life he'd just endured and he'd made it enough. It wasn't until he met Carol that he began to understand what he was surviving for. He had a use in this world, a point and Carol needing him had shown Daryl that. The silent understanding between them was he'd stay alive for her and she'd stay alive for him. They'd deal with the brokenness of the world and each other's fucked up lives together.

Only Carol had broken her side of the deal. She'd gotten herself bit. She'd abandoned him. "Damn you, bitch," Daryl said hoarsely, voice choked with emotion. "Damn you to hell and back." But then, Carol was already in hell and just taken him with her. Daryl tightened his grip on his knife but continued to back up as Carol shuffled towards him, snarling and snapping at him. His back bumped up against the wall of the corridor. Now was the time to end this, end Carol's suffering. Daryl's stricken gaze took in Carol's laboured advancing on him. All he had to do was take a step forward and he'd be close enough to drive the knife through Carol's head. _Do it, you pussy_. Merle's voice taunted him. _Be a man. Kill the bitch, she's nothing to you. You're a Dixon brother, we don't need no one except each other. _

There was a time when that had been true. Daryl's hand opened and closed on his knife, but still he didn't attack. Only that time had passed. He'd changed and he couldn't go back. Even worse, he didn't want to go back. She'd ruined him for the life which used to keep him safely numb. Suddenly Daryl couldn't remember why survival was so important if he was doomed to spend that life alone. He sagged against the wall, arm dropping down as the knife slipped from his defeated fingers. Daryl didn't move to protect himself as Carol closed in. Instead, angry tears filled his eyes as he kept his gaze on Carol's vacant one. He'd always been able to see inside her through those liquid eyes of hers and now he couldn't. She was gone and he may as well be gone with her. _What the hell was he trying to stay alive for anyway?_ Daryl couldn't remember anymore. It was always Carol who reminded him but now, she never would again. Her hands were on his chest, face twisted with the lust for warm flesh. Daryl stood passively as she lunged at his neck, tearing at the skin and muscle there. He felt his warm blood spurt out over both of them as he let Carol do what she needed to do, no longer caring as the life drained from his body. Carol's teeth tore at his neck in a frenzied attack and Daryl relished the pain, wanting nothing more to join her in a world where there was nothing more to lose...

Daryl sat bolt upright on his mattress, heart pounding, blood racing in his ears and deafening him. He grabbed at his neck as he blinked sweat out of his eyes. There was no gaping wound, he wasn't being eaten alive. "Fuck me," he said hoarsely, trying to shake off the horror of his nightmare, still caught up in the emotions of the horror dreamscape he'd just been occupying. He looked around at the darken cell block, checking to see if he'd woken anyone with his nightmares but no one was stirring. Daryl let out a ragged breath, trying to get his breathing back under control. He dragged his hands through his hair and then rubbed them over his sweaty face. Nightmares were par for the course for everyone nowadays, but that one had been a bad one, even by a zombie apocalypse standards. Suddenly Daryl had this horrible dread that it all hadn't been a dream. Fear drove him to stand and almost run to check where Carol should be sleeping. He came to her cell door and hesitated before looking in, still trying to sort dreams from reality. Daryl needed her to be inside, sleeping on those hard prison bunk beds. He needed for his memories of finding Carol alive and carrying her to safety to be what really happened. Daryl steeled himself and took a step forward, looking inside the darkened cell. Relief surged through his body as he made out Carol's quietly slumbering form. Her face was relaxed in sleep, the worry of the day gone as she dreamed her own dreams. Daryl sagged against the doorframe as he stared at her. He hoped her dreams were a hell of a lot sweeter than his.

Carol's blanket had slipped a little and her feet were exposed. Daryl didn't even think about it. He walked into her cell, his own bare feet silent on the cold concrete and gently tucked the blanket back around her feet. She didn't even stir. Sleep, when you could get it, was usually from exhaustion and he was glad Carol was finding some peace. Even if he wasn't so lucky. Daryl turned around and walked back out of her cell. He moved his shoulders as he stood on the walkway between all of the cells, too restless to contemplate trying to sleep again. A slight noise from below had him instantly on guard. Daryl hurried back to his bed and grabbed his crossbow. He crept halfway down the metal stairs and then turned around to crouch down and peer through the open space between the steps to where they prepared their food. He was at the ready in case a Walker had somehow managed to find their way into their safe haven. Daryl raised his crossbow as a shadowy figure walked out from the corner. His finger moved to the trigger. Axel stepped out into the patch of moonlight streaming from the window above them just in time to avoid catching an arrow between the eyes.

He turned to see Daryl lining him up in his sights and gave an audible start. Axel held up the hand which wasn't holding a bowl of left over stew. "Whoa, man, don't shoot!"

Daryl made an annoyed noise, lowering the crossbow and glaring at the other man.

Axel looked a little panicked. "Rick said it was alright for us to eat what was left over from dinner," he said hastily. "I'm not stealin' or anything, promise, man."

Daryl didn't say anything, just kept staring at Axel with a hard, unreadable expression on his face as he crouched there on the stairs.

This only served to make Axel more nervous. "Ah, you know, you got nothing to worry about with me and Carol tomorrow." His habit of excessive talking when he was frightened kicking in. "I'll be a real gentleman, you can count on that. She's been real kind to me." Axel looked stricken. "Not sayin' y'all have been kind, but Carol was real good about that accident today."

Daryl's jaw hardened, his stare became more death-filled.

It appeared Axel realised he'd made a mistake mentioning what had happened with Carol. "And you know, it _was_ an accident," he continued on quickly. "I wouldn't hurt a pretty woman like her." Axel paused for breath. "Not that I'm sayin' I'd hurt an ugly woman. Just that I wouldn't hurt any woman-" he trailed off under Daryl's silent, angry star. Axel's shoulders slumped. "You're gonna kill me if anything happens to her on our run tomorrow, ain't you?"

Daryl didn't reply, but made sure the answer was on his face. If Carol came back with so much as a sunburn tomorrow, he was going to skin this guy alive. It wasn't completely rational, but Daryl didn't give a fuck. Being reasonable was for a world where death didn't claw at you every second of the day. Being reasonable was the luxury of folks with time and they all knew none of them had that anymore. He knew what Axel was. He was an opportunist. Axel would say what he needed to who it needed to be said to survive. The stoner would change allegiances in a heartbeat if it meant it saved his yellow ass. Daryl knew that he was doing this run with Carol as a way of weasling his way into the group and getting some assurance of protection from them. What he didn't know, and what was eating away at Daryl, is why Carol was doing this. He knew she wasn't interested in Axel the way Axel was clearly interested in her, so why spend any kind of time with the dumb ass? Daryl couldn't work it out and it was throwing his whole focus off.

Daryl wanted to storm back to Carol's cell, shake her awake and scream at her not to do this, not to trust someone outside the group with her life. Instead he just gave one last, hard look at the frightened Axel and walked silently back to his bed. He didn't trust himself with what he might say or do next if he did try and talk to Carol about this. Daryl lay back down on his mattress and stared, unseeing, up at the grey ceiling. No matter how he turned it over in his head, he couldn't understand why she was taking this kind of risk. Daryl did know that his exclusion was pointed though and that had him walking around with a lead weight in the pit of his stomach.

Things were so much easier when he didn't give a fuck about these people.

**A/N****: Sorry, guys, still haven't gotten to why Carol is doing this yet. There is so much wealth of raw emotion to unpack in these two, I don't want to cheat myself of exploring their characters as much as I can. :D Keep reading though, you'll get your answers soon enough. ;) **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N****: Hey everyone, glad to have you still reading along. Much appreciated. :D **

**I won't bend your ear too much about this chapter. It's kind of a manoeuvring one, meaning I needed to set things up for the next point of drama. I hope it's not too boring for you all. For me, the point of this fic is deepening the intimacy between Daryl and Carol, which means introducing conflict so they can work their way through it. This is a set up for that idea. **

**I have to say I've loved reading some of the takes on the Caryl relationship you're leaving me in your reviews. :D I love over-analysing things, and that's why I get so caught up in these complicated, layered relationships, particularly if there is a dark undertone to them, like the fact that both Daryl and Carol are victims of abuse. And thank you to my reviewer who said I'm holding my own with the Americanisms in this fic. That means a lot. I'm an Aussie and therefore, speak like an Aussie... g'day, mate. ;) Because the Australian language is such a hodge podge of American/English/European influences, it's hard to know what I got from where. LOL And the Southernisms of where this story give TWD it's unique flavour IMO. Well, one of the things. ;) I want to try and get it right, even though I know I'll have the odd slip up. . I actually adore the accents on the show. The Southern accent is so pretty, the way it lingers over parts of words and drawls them out. It's rather romantic to my ears. 3 **

**Okay, on with the show...**

**Chapter Four**

Rick handed Carol the handgun. "I've put extra bullets in your bag," he informed her. Rick glanced at Axel, a warning expression on his face. "Just in case."

Carol slipped the gun into the back of her pants. "I won't need them, but thanks."

"If you've changed your mind, I can still go," offered Maggie.

Carol smiled at the young woman. "I haven't changed my mind."

Rick nodded. "Right, best be getting on then."

Carol walked over to the car where Axel was already standing by the driver's side. She was conscious of Daryl hovering on the fringes of the little send off party. It was an unwritten rule that a big deal wasn't made of runs into town. Everyone knew that it was inviting risk and that they may never see each other again, the possibility of something happening to the people leaving just as big as to the people staying. You never knew what you were heading out into or returning back to. If you thought about it too much, it'd have you hiding under one of those prison bunk beds. So, they didn't talk about it, because these things just had to be done. Carol gave a nod to Maggie and Rick who returned the gesture.

"See you soon," said Rick and then he shot Axel another look of warning, just for good measure.

"You will," said Carol simply, opening the passenger seat door as Daryl walked up to her. She paused and looked at him.

"You leavin' now?" he asked stiffly.

Carol met his gaze steadily. "Yes." She could see he was upset and was sorry about that, but this was something she had to do. "Be careful cleaning out those Walkers from the south entrance today."

Daryl's face darkened. "I ain't the one who needs to be careful."

For a moment Carol thought he was going to have more to say on the subject but then he glanced at the others watching their exchange and seemed to change his mind. "So," he grunted to Rick, "are we doin' this or not? We're burnin' daylight here." With that he turned on his heel and marched back to the prison.

Carol watched him leave and felt a wave of regret. Sometimes it was almost too painful to look at Daryl. It was like he was this giant, open wound. Raw and sensitive to the touch, yet working hard to hide it under all that scar tissue. Carol understood that because that was how she'd felt her entire life as well. But today, she had her own wounds to tend to. She climbed into the car as Maggie ran to open the gate for them.

Axel looked at her with an expectant smile on his face. "Ready to roll?"

Carol nodded and he started the engine, the two of them driving out of the relative safety of the prison and into the vast uncertainty of the rest of the world. They drove in silence for a few minutes and then Axel had to talk, of course.

He was looking out the windows as well as the windscreen, a big smile on his face. "I ain't been outside those prison walls for four years." Axel drew in a deep breath. "Free air sure smells great."

"Don't get too excited," she cautioned him. "The world isn't anything like you remember it."

"Yeah, but I'm a free man," said Axel, clearly wanting to savour the moment.

Carol looked out the window, her heart giving a painful pang. "Some days I think none of us will ever be free again," she murmured, talking to herself more than anyone else.

Axel shot Carol a quick look before looking back to the road. "I'm real pleased you wanted me to come along with you, Carol." He grinned. "I'm lookin' forward to gettin' to know you. I ain't had female companionship in a long time."

"I'm not looking to make a new friend, Axel," she said quietly. "I just need you to talk."

Axel through her a perplexed look. "About what?"

"About anything," said Carol simply.

There was a pregnant pause. "So," drawled Axel, a note of hopeful expectation in his voice, "does that mean I can talk dirty to you?"

Carol just kept looking out the window. "I don't know, Axel," she replied Carol mildly. "Can you still drive if I shoot your balls off?"

Axel made a disgruntled noise. "You know, not for nothin', but I've met less violent folk in prison."

"Build a bridge," Carol advised him, "and get over it." She turned her head a little further away from the man to hide her smile. All those years of abuse from Ed, just once she wished she'd had the courage to say something like that to him. Her smile faded. So much regret. It'd eat you alive if you let it. "Start talking, Axel. Where were you born?" Carol didn't care, she just needed the sound of inane chatter to get her through today. If there was one thing Axel could do, it was talk about nothing. The others had lost the habit. They'd needed their breath to survive and to say the things which mattered.

"LA, but my folk moved here when I was a baby. Funny story 'bout that in fact-"

Axel then launched off into a convoluted story which Carol barely listened to. She just watched the scenery flash by, along with the occasional Walker and let her own memories over take her.

**oooOOOOooo**

Rick nodded at Daryl, indicating he'd step out around the corner first. Daryl nodded back, crossbow locked and loaded. They'd been clearing out Walkers in the area for well over an hour now and trying to find the source of them. It was important to reinforce the area they'd breached, once they found it. That was why Rick had a bag of tools, locks and wire on his back. They were in the utility area of the prison, the corridors especially narrow and hard to manoeuvre around. That was why Rick had opted only to take Daryl with him. They were better to work as a two-man team, clearing this area alone. While they'd been working their way through Walkers, Daryl had maintained a stony silence. The man wasn't known for his chattiness, but Rick didn't have to be a genius to know what was on his mind. "You think I made a mistake, letting Axel go with Carol, don't you?" Rick quizzed them as they methodically swept the area.

"I ain't thinkin' nothin'," said Daryl shortly.

Rick gave a humourless smile, his attention still on the job at hand, but so practiced at killing now, he could have a conversation and kill Walkers at the same time. "The one thing I've learnt about you, Daryl, is that you're always thinkin' something."

"I don't recall you askin' for my opinion about those two before decidin' they were staying," said Darly dourly, crossbow raised as he kept a sharp eye out for the next attack.

Rick made no apologies for that fact. "I'm askin' now."

Daryl's assessment was dark and to the point. "That piece of shit would slit all of our throats if it saved his own ass." A Walker rounded the corner and Daryl fired an arrow into its skull.

"And Oscar?" asked Rick, not missing a beat.

"He's not one of us." They walked by the prone Walker's body, Daryl pulling his arrow from the creatures eye socket as he went by. "Neither of them are."

"The group is getting smaller and by definition, weaker," Rick argued. He raised his axe and split the head of another Walker as he popped out of a corridor at them.

"They ain't got a stake in the group. We don't matter to them. Numbers don't matter if we can't trust them."

Their conversation was briefly interrupted as a herd of Walkers suddenly appeared up ahead. For a few minutes there was only the sound of bones and brains being split open as he and Daryl fought their way through the herd. A few blood-soaked minutes later, there was only the two of them left standing.

"Carol volunteered," Rick reminded him.

Another Walker appeared up ahead and Daryl strode up to him and lashed out at the slow-moving creature. He took the top of its head off in one hard strike. Blood and brains splattered on the utilitarian grey walls of the corridor. "Yeah," he bit out, shaking bits of Walker brains off his knife, "and you ain't a least bit curious why she did that?"

Rick kicked off a dismembered Walker hand which had grabbed his ankle and sliced it in two with his axe. "I think she had her reasons." He straightened up and fixed Daryl with a serious look. "I think Carol needed to do this."

"With Axel?" he asked harshly. "After all our group has been through together, why him?"

"Carol's got good instincts," said Rick calmly. "I trust them."

"You know she didn't want you leadin' the group after we left the farm?" shot back Daryl. "Her _instincts_ didn't figure you for a man of honour."

Rick thought back to those dark times, jaw hardening as he remembered taking Shane's life and the less than pure gratification he'd felt at finally removing that thorn from his side. "I reckon she was right," he said quietly. Rick shook his head. "Shit, I don't even know what that means anymore or if there is even a place for it in this world."

"All I know is that we're dependin' on each other to keep each other alive." Dary's face hardened. "If we don't have each other's backs, then who does?" He brushed past Rick and took the lead.

Rick let out a heavy breath, understanding what the other man was saying. He also understood that Daryl was going to hold him responsible if anything happened to Carol. Rick already felt responsible for everyone, so Daryl wasn't going to be adding anything to the load Rick was already carrying.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol looked down at the meagre supplies in her basket and made a frustrated face. They'd searched through the entire store and only found one more tin of baby formula and a pack of diapers. This wasn't enough. Judith was going to need so much more. Axel had maintained his air of excitement throughout the entire trip. He was currently trying sunglasses on while Carol took one last turn around the aisles. "Come on," she called out to him, "we've got to get going."

Axel turned to her with a pair of sunglasses on. "How do these look?"

"Unnecessary," said Carol simply as she made her way out of the store. She was at the car when she saw the first Walker. Carol kept an eye on the slowly advancing creature as she put her basket on the backseat. They'd been lucky so far today, only spotting the odd one here and there and they hadn't been bothered so far.

Suddenly Axel was out of the store, shouldering his shotgun. "I've got it."

"No!" hissed Carol, but it was too late.

Axel took the shot and hit the Walker square in the face. It dropped to the ground, face a sodden mess of flesh and bone.

Axel grinned at her, still wearing the sunglasses. "Did you see that?" he said happily. "Got it square in the face."

"You don't use a gun to take out one Walker," ground out Carol in annoyance. "It's a waste of bullets and it makes too much noise." Just then another Walker appeared down the end of the street, followed by another two staggering out of a shop across the road. Carol waved an impatient hand at them. "See?"

"I can take them," said Axel confidently, raising his shotgun again.

"Did you just hear what I said?" Carol snapped. "Get in the car."

Axel looked put out, but he lowered his shotgun and did what she said. Carol climbed into the car as well, keeping an eye on the suddenly growing number of Walkers.

"I could have taken them," grumbled Axel, like a chastised child.

"Could you have taken all of those?" she asked flatly. Carol inclined her head towards her side of the car. At least twenty Walkers were heading their way now.

"Oh shit," said Axel in disbelief, "where did they come from?"

"I told you, things aren't how you remember them. There are Walkers everywhere. Now start the car, we need to get out of here."

Axel hastily started the car and pulled out from the curb. "Our way out of town is blocked," he said, looking at the herd up ahead and starting to sound a little panicked.

"Turn around," she told him. "We'll take the scenic route out of town."

"But the fuel," Axel protested.

Carol's answer was terse. "We don't have an option now. Just turnaround and drive."

Axel finally complied and he had them speeding away from the Walkers. He looked unnerved and was actually silent for a change. For Carol, it had been a mild encounter, not even worth mentioning. Until a Walker was in your face, breathing its putrid breath on you and trying to tear you apart, it didn't count.

"Where am I goin'?" asked Axel, driving through the streets of town and nervously looking all around.

Carol had always had a pretty decent sense of direction. "If you take the next couple of lefts, it should take us back to the road which will meet up with the main highway." She cast a frustrated look back at their supplies. It hadn't even been worth the fuel to drive them there. Carol felt a wave of uselessness.

"Are you sure that's right?" fretted Axel.

"Are you sure it's not?" Carol shot back, in no mood to put up with anything more from Axel today. He turned left as directed, just as something caught her eye. "Wait, stop the car!"

Axel slammed on the brakes, forcing Carol to put her good hand out to brace herself and not head butt the dash. "What?" asked Axel anxiously. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Back up."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

Axel dutifully backed up the car.

"Stop." The car jerked to a halt and Carol climbed out, staring at what had caught her interest in the first place. "Please," she whispered to herself, a tiny well spring of hope rising up in her, "please, God, just give me one good day, today of all days."

"What are you doin'?" called out an antsy Axel. "Get back in the car. We gotta get going." He looked about at the streets. "It ain't safe. Please, Carol," he whined, "get back in the car. I can't let anything happen to you."

But Carol wasn't listening as she readjusted the bag over her shoulder. Pulling out the gun from her waistband, she determinedly walked forwards and away from the safety of the car.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl moved the crossbow on his back to a more comfortable position as he and Rick walked out from the side of the prison into the large, grassy area they'd first cleared on finding the prison.

"Damn but I thought we'd find where those Walkers were getting in today," said Rick in irritation.

"We'll find it tomorrow," said Daryl distractedly. It was getting late in the day, the shadows were starting to lengthen and by his account, Carol and shit for brains should be back by now. Daryl had done his best not to think about it all day and killing Walkers helped with that, but he knew he wasn't going to take an easy breath until he saw Carol again. He and Rick walked around the corner in time to see the car Carol and Axel had taken out being parked up against the internal fence of the yard.

"They're back."

Daryl could hear the relief in Rick's voice as he squinted at the car across the field.

"I hope they found some baby formula for Judith," said Rick, quickening his steps. "We're gettin' in a bad way with that stuff."

Daryl was still watching the car as he lengthened his steps to match Ricks. Axel climbed out of the car but Carol didn't. "She's not with him," he ground out as they were now close enough to see there was no one in the passenger seat of the car. The impotent rage he'd been holding back all day exploded inside of Daryl as he broke into a run. "Son of a bitch!"

"Oh fuck," came Rick's dismayed voice from behind him but Daryl wasn't taking his eyes off Axel as he made a beeline for the other man.

Axel turned around just in time to see Daryl almost on top of him. Axel threw up his hands. "NO!" he screamed, quickly backing up away from the furious Daryl. The panic was obvious on his face and in his voice. "It wasn't my fault, it was an accident."

The underlying tension of the day exploded inside of Daryl at hearing confirmation of his worst fears. "What did you do, you fucker!" Daryl screamed, launching himself at Axel and tackling him to the ground. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!"

"Daryl, no!" Rick's voice was in his ear as the other man wrapped his arms around Daryl's middle and tried to pull him off the terrified Axel.

Daryl struggled against Rick, just wanting to tear the other man to pieces as Axel whimpered and tried his best to escape. Suddenly another set of arms was tearing him away from his intended victim as Glenn joined Rick in helping restrain Daryl.

Daryl was barely aware of the other two men, even as he struggled to break free from them dragging him away from Axel. Daryl stabbed a hate-filled finger at Axel, who was still cowering on the ground. "YOU'RE DEAD!" he raged. "YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD!"

"Please," gasped Axel, hands up in front of himself in case Glenn and Rick lost their hold on the out of control Daryl. "I told her not to go. It wasn't my fault, you have to believe me, it wasn't my fault."

**A/N****: So, for those of you who haven't read my stories before, just by way of warning, I have a penchant for cliff hangers... sorry about that. ;) **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N****: Hey guys, welcome back. :D **

**Now, this is a long chapter, and I could have broken it in two, but I feel like it would have ruined the flow a bit, so I didn't. **

**The end scene of this chapter is one of the scenes I originally pictured when I started writing this fic, so it feels good to get it on ****paper**** computer to stop it rattling around in my head. **

**Okay, time to release this chapter into the wild, I guess... thanks for reading as always. :)**

**Chapter Five**

"You will lose someone you can't live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn't seal back up. And you come through. It's like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."

~_Anne Lamott_~

Carol ignored the nervous whining of Axel and walked towards the gate of the white picket fence. Stepping through the gate, she continued up that paved pathway to the front of the two storey house. She stood on the porch and looked at what had first caught her eye in the first place. A double stroller was sitting out on the porch, one made for twins. Carol looked it over and then glanced at the RV sitting in the driveway. There were some boxes sitting beside the motor home and it looked like the family who'd been living there had been in the process of evacuating, but had never made it. Carol put her gun back in the waistband of her pants and drew out her knife. She wanted to have a good look round and didn't want to attract more Walkers in the process. Pushing on the front door found it open. Carol stepped inside, eyes adjusting to the gloom as she cautiously moved into the hallway. The smell of putrefying flesh assailed her nostrils, but she was used to that by now and just ignored it. Edging forward with her knife raised in her good hand, Carol started to search the house. She walked into the living room and instantly had to choke back a disgusted breath. The smell was horrifying and she quickly saw why. On the other side of the room were matching baby carriers and the buzzing coming from them told Carol that she'd found the remains of the twins whose stroller had first caught her eye. Carol tried not to think of those babies starving to death in those carriers, only to come back as Walkers and still have no escape. Eventually they would have rotted away so that death finally came for them properly. It was a sickening thought.

A noise to Carol's left had her on guard. She tensed, gripping her knife more tightly as a Walker shuffled its way out from another door. A good portion of her face was missing, and ragged flesh hung from one arm. She was thin and swaying on her feet as she put herself between Carol and the baby carriers. Jennings had told them that nothing remained of the person when the disease attacked, that the thing reanimated had nothing left of who they used to be. Carol stared at the dead woman moving towards her and couldn't help but see a mother protecting her children, even though those children were long dead. Maybe a mother's instinct wasn't a part of the brain, maybe it was so deeply embedded in the heart that even death couldn't touch it. Carol looked at the dead woman, her face lined with compassion as the Walker advanced on her. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. Carol raised her arm and drove her knife into the eye socket of the woman. Dark, sticky blood spurt out across Carol's hand and arm as the woman crumpled at her feet. She withdrew the knife and carefully wiped it on the nearby sofa.

Carol knew she didn't have time to mourn for this little family. They were already dead. There was a living family who needed her energies more. She walked back out of the living room and further up the hall, finding the doorway into the kitchen. Carol took a step inside and stopped. "Mercy," she breathed, eyes widening at the amazing sight. By the door, which led out to the driveway, there were boxes and boxes of supplies and baby paraphernalia, like another set of baby carriers and portable cribs. Carol hurried over and opened the first box and found cans of baby formula, at least twenty. The next box had the same amount. There were also more boxes with canned food, bottled water and several lots of perishable foods which by now were no more than slurry. Carol's heart was pounding, tears of relief pricking her eyes as she looked in another box and found a supply of disposable diapers, as well as a large amount of cloth ones. Clearly these people had been thinking longer term and while it hadn't done them any good, it was going to make all the difference to the group's ability to keep Judith alive in the immediate future. Carol closed her eyes, fresh hope springing up in her heart. "Thank you," she said unevenly, "thank you, God." It'd been a long time since she'd prayed. The experience too painful after all that she'd lost but now it felt to Carol as though she'd come home again after a long time out in the cold. Her faith was a huge part of who she used to be and she didn't want to abandon that part of herself in this new world.

Carol made her way out of the kitchen and to the RV. She glanced over towards the car and saw Axel fidgeting as he stood by the driver's side. She called out to him. "Come and help," she urged him. "We've hit the mother lode. We need to start filling up the car."

"You found stuff?" asked Axel cautiously.

"Yes," said Carol, unable to help the big smile on her face. Her hand was on the door of the RV. "Now come and start loading up. We're not going to be able to fit it all in, we'll have to come back tomorrow." She watched Axel start towards her and then opened the door of the RV. Suddenly a Walker was in the doorway of the motor home and it launched itself at her. It tackled Carol to the ground, decaying, stinking body on top of hers as it snarled and snapped at her, attempting to rip the flesh from her bones.

"Carol!"

She heard Axel's frightened cry of her name as she struggled against the Walker. "Don't shoot!" she yelled back, not willing to lose their find over this. The Walker hadn't been an overly big man and starvation had made him less weighty again. Carol had managed to bring up a knee between her and the Walker before she hit the ground. She now used that knee to leverage the thing off her. Carol pushed the Walker off her and scrambled for the knife which had been knocked out of her hand. Gripping it in her left hand, she quickly kneeled on the Walker's arm to keep him in place and then rammed her knife repeatedly into his skull. The Walker rapidly went still as Carol destroyed his brain with practiced precision.

Axel was by her side and staring down at her and the bloody Walker in disbelief. "Are-are you alright?"

Carol stood up, her good mood not affected by the latest kill. "I'm great." Her smile was back. "Today has been a good day." Carol's smile widened. "I can't wait to get these supplies back to the prison. This is going to be a huge weight off everyone's mind." She wiped her bloody hands on the RV. "Come on, let's get loading."

"Um, okay," said Axel, who still looked a little shell-shocked.

Fifteen minutes later they'd crammed as much as they could into their car and were ready to head back home. Carol pushed the last box into place in the back seat. "We'll come back tomorrow for the rest," she said excitedly.

Axel was by her side, scanning the area nervously. "We should get goin'. I think I hear somethin'." Just then a Walker appeared down the end of the road. "Told you," he said, a little panicked. With his eyes still on the Walker, Axel slammed the back door closed. Unfortunately, because he was watching the Walker, he didn't notice Carol's bad hand was still in the way. Axel forcefully slammed the door on her hand.

Carol gave a stifled cry of agony as the car door bounced off her already injured limb. She literally saw stars from the pain of it and her bandages were already filling up with blood.

"Oh geez!" said a stricken Axel as he watched Carol double over and clutch her hand to her chest.

Carol fought against screaming out in pain, not wanting to give the Walker anything to focus on. "Get into the car," she wheezed, still bent over and seeing spots before her eyes. Axel hesitated, moving to help her. "Get into the car!" she snapped, shaking off his hand. He gave up, hurrying to start the car while Carol slowly straightened up. She climbed into the car as Axel started the engine. Carol looked down at her hand which she was nursing in her lap and saw that her bandages were now soaked through with blood. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?" she said flatly.

Axel sent her a repentant look as he pulled away from the curb. "Sorry." He grimaced. "You're not going to tell anyone 'bout that, are you? I'd be real appreciative if you just kept that little accident between us."

Carol rolled her eyes, hand hurting like hell. "I bet you would."

**oooOOOOooo**

"What's happened, what's going on?" asked a confused Glenn as he struggled to hold onto Daryl who was still trying to get to Axel.

"Carol didn't come back," said Rick as he strained to hold back Daryl as well.

Daryl's dream came back to him, of finding Carol as a Walker and it sent him violently thrashing about again. He just wanted to get his hands on Axel and make him pay.

"But Carol is up at the cell block," said a perplexed Glenn.

Daryl couldn't take in his words through the red sheen of rage he was experiencing.

"Carol is here?" repeated Rick. "Are you sure?"

Glenn's answer was certain. "Yeah, I was just talking to her."

Daryl's head was spinning, not trusting his ears right then as the other two men relaxed their grip on him.

"She's fine," continued on Glenn. "Well, apart from her hand, of course."

Daryl shook Rick and Glenn's hold off and spun around to face Glenn. "Carol's up at the cell block?" he bit out, needing to make sure.

"Yes," said Glenn. He motioned back towards the cellblock. "You can go and see for yourself, if you like."

Some of the tension drained from Daryl's body as he wiped his face with his arm. She was alright. He felt like puking.

"What happened to her hand?" asked Rick, still keeping a caution eye on the shell-shocked Daryl.

"It was an accident," piped up Axel weakly.

Daryl whipped around and punched him hard in the face. Axel fell backwards, unconscious. Daryl shook his hand, the pain of delivering that punch was a welcome one.

Rick sighed. "I guess that was inevitable." He turned his attention back to Glenn. "What about Carol's hand?"

Glenn grimaced. "Axel slammed it in the car door. Hershel's just fixed it up again."

"Are you shittin' me?" asked Daryl in disbelief.

Glenn continued on quickly. "But they found a heap of baby supplies. Lots of formula and diapers and more."

Rick looked relieved. "They did?"

"Yeah, Carol just kind of played a hunch and it payed off," said Glenn.

Rick smiled. "Maybe we should send Carol off on runs more often then."

Daryl just grunted at that and turned around. He needed to see for himself that Carol was okay. Making himself not run, Daryl headed back into the cellblock, leaving Glenn and Rick to deal with the jackass. He wound his way through the corridors of the cellblock until he was at the section they'd all set up home in. Daryl's shoulder's dropped at his first sight of Carol through the bars of the gate into their sleeping quarters. She was standing there, smiling and talking to Hershel and Beth, looking so normal that it almost tore out his heart from his chest. A confusing array of emotions bombarded him all at once, not least of which anger that she should look so happy when he'd just died a thousand deaths out on that field. Hershel nodded and said something, returning Carol's smile and then he was heading back up the stairs, quite agile on his crutches now. That left Carol standing over Beth as the younger woman worked her way through a pile of washing. He must have made a sound, because Carol turned her head and saw him.

"Daryl," she said excitedly, "did you hear? We found a lot of supplies, especially for Judith."

Carol was beaming but Daryl was still trying to come back from his outburst on the field. "I heard." He walked through the door and came to stand by the two women. Daryl's gaze swept over Carol, taking in the fresh bandages on her hand and Walker blood on her pants and tank top. "Looks like that wasn't all you found."

Carol looked down at blood-spattered clothes and just laughed as she looked back at him. "Yeah, well, you can talk."

Daryl wasn't in a laughing mood. "It was meant to be a simple run. Axel was meant to be lookin' out for you."

"He didn't shoot me," said Carol wryly. "I'm counting that as a blessing."

Daryl's face darkened at her flippancy.

Carol shook her head at him. "You don't need to overreact every time something happens to me, Daryl," she said easily. "This wasn't a big deal."

Daryl's face clouded over in anger at her seeming dismissal of him. A muscle ticked wildly in his cheek. "Maybe you could get the dumb ass to punch you in the face next time?" he said harshly. "You seem to like it when guys beat on you."

"Daryl!" gasped Beth, looking shocked.

He turned abruptly and stalked out of the room, his whole body language fairly bristling with anger. Daryl hated that he'd said those things to her, but he didn't know how to take them back. Normally Carol was a place of refuge to him, but all of a sudden he felt like that refuge had been turned into a warzone. He was churning with unwanted emotions that he couldn't even begin to put names to. Instead, he just tried to put some distance between himself and the cause of his confusion.

**oooOOOOooo**

"Daryl," Carol called after him but he didn't stop, just kept walking. She looked down at the concerned looking Beth. "It's alright," Carol reassured her. "Daryl didn't mean anything by that."

"He's jealous," observed Beth as she went back to her clothes washing.

Carol looked at her in surprise and then smiled. It was such a teenager thing to look at it that way. "No, he's not, honey."

Beth glanced up at her. "Yeah, he is."

"Daryl and I aren't like that," said Carol gently, trying to explain.

Beth shrugged. "All I know is that every time Daryl walks into a room, he always looks for you first."

Carol was sceptical. "I don't think that's true, Beth."

"It is," she said without hesitation. Beth titled her head as she looked up at Carol. "I don't talk a lot and people often forget I'm here."

"Beth, that isn't true," said Carol quickly.

"Yes, it is, but I don't mind," she said easily. "It means I get to see things in people they don't know they're showing. Do you want to know why I think Daryl always looks for you first?"

Carol was a little flustered by this conversation. She hadn't expected this level of observation from such a young girl. "Why?" she asked hesitantly.

"Cause I think that's how he knows he's home," said Beth blithely. "Wherever you are is his home."

"Wh-what would make you say that, Beth?" said Carol unevenly.

"I saw you two while Sophia was missing," said Beth quietly. "You both needed something only the other could give. You needed Daryl's faith that you'd all find Sophia and Daryl needed to give a daughter back to her mother, to reunite a family seeing as he never had a real one."

Carol's lips trembled. "By that definition, we both failed each other."

Beth's expression was serious. "No, no, you didn't. Daryl's faith got you through everything that happened with Sophia and you needing him gave him that family he was fighting for from the beginning." She gave a sad little smile. "It wasn't what you were both aiming for, but in the end, I reckon it was what you both needed."

Carol's eyes filled with emotional tears, floored by her take on the situation. She touched Beth's face and smiled sweetly down at her. "Your father has a lot to be proud about in you, Beth. You're an exceptional young woman."

She laughed it off. "I'm nothing special."

"No," said Carol determinedly, "you're exceptionally special and very precious."

Beth smiled, blushing a little at the praise. "Anyways, that's how I know Daryl is jealous of you and Axel."

"Beth," said Carol firmly, "there never was or will be, an Axel and me."

"But you went with him today," Beth reminded him.

"I had my reasons," said Carol softly, voice shaking a little.

"All Daryl knows is that he needs to be the person you look to first for whatever you need. He needs to know you've found your home in him as much as he has in you." She wrinkled her nose pretty. "I don't think he really knows what a home is, that's why he's so protective of it." Beth looked up at Carol. "Of you."

Carol made a regretful face. She'd been on such a high from her find in town that she hadn't really been paying attention to much else. Carol gave a small smile to Beth. "I best go and find Daryl."

Beth nodded. "He won't be far."

Carol arched an eyebrow, knowing Daryl could have made it a good distance by now. "What makes you say that?"

"Because even though he's mad, he's waiting for you."

Carol just shook her head at the young blonde woman. "I'll be back soon to organise the supplies. You don't get any smarter before I get back, okay?" she asked warmly. Beth smiled at her and nodded as Carol set off to look for Daryl. Just as Beth had predicted, it didn't take long. Daryl was sitting on a set of metal stairs which led up to the lookout for their block. His head was down, intent on sharpening his knife. Carol walked up to him and he didn't acknowledge her presence, just kept on sharpening his knife, his face hard and intent on the task in hand. She didn't let herself be put off. Carol walked up and sat down on the same step Daryl was sitting on. "I'm sorry," she said quietly.

Daryl didn't reply or look at her.

"I appreciate you worrying about me, Daryl, you know I do but today I just needed-"

He didn't let her finish. Daryl stood up abruptly. "I came here for peace, woman," he said harshly. "Not to have you yappin' my ear off." Daryl started to stomp up the stairs away from her.

Carol didn't move, just stared straight ahead. "It's Sophia's birthday today."

Daryl immediately stopped on the stairs, her words hanging between them.

Carol didn't turn around, just kept talking. "It's the 21st of June today," she continued on quietly. "Sophia would have been thirteen." Carol gave a broken smile. "My little girl would have been a teenager today." She heard Daryl turned around on the stairs and slowly walk back down to her. He stopped on the step she was sitting on and took a seat one above her. His legs were beside Carol, the warmth of his body above her. She bit her bottom lip. "When Glenn told us what the date was today, I knew I needed-" Carol paused and took a deep breath. "The reason I took Axel with me on that run into town was because I needed to be with someone who hadn't seen my little girl that way." Carol closed her eyes as the pain threatened to overwhelm her. "I needed to be with someone that didn't have that picture of Sophia in their heads, the way she was at the end when Rick, when Rick had to-to-" She couldn't finish her sentence.

Daryl's hand was on her shoulder, squeezing it tightly. "It's alright," he said, voice raw with his own emotions.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," said Carol regretfully. "I-I just didn't have the words before."

Daryl's hand moved restlessly on her shoulder, clearly struggling with how best to comfort her. "It don't matter," he said, voice thick with emotion. "I'm, ah, you know, sorry I yelled at you before." Daryl hesitated. "I didn't mean what I said."

Carol gave a sad little smile. "I know." She leaned into the warmth of his legs, smelling dirt and blood and the sweat of the day's labours in the fabric. The smell of him filled her nostrils - familiar, safe.

"Daryl?" She said his name as a quiet question after they'd sat there silent for a little bit.

"Yeah?"

Carol stared at a spot at the bottom of the stairs. "Do you think I'm still a mother?" Her heart tightened as she whispered the question to him. "I mean, I stopped being a wife when Ed died." Carol blinked back tears which still managed to escape anyway. The made hot trails down her face but Carol didn't bother wiping them away. "Do I stop being a mom because Sophia d-died." Even now the word was hard to say.

"You'll always be that little girl's mamma." His voice held no doubt, no hesitation. "Death doesn't change nothin' about the way you loved Sophia and the way she loved you."

The band around her heart loosened a little. "Do you believe in Heaven?"

This time Daryl did pause. "I believe if there is a Heaven, Sophia's going to be waitin' on you," he said gruffly.

"I have to believe in it," said Carol simply. "I have to think Sophia's safe and happy right now, that God has her."

"You mean the God who took her from you in the first place?" Daryl sounded angry now.

"Don't," said Carol painfully. "God has a plan for everything."

"So, you think He planned this?" Daryl made a derisive noise. "Well, shit, if He did, then ain't He a peach."

"You called me a peach once," said Carol, remembering their confrontation just after Sophia had died. "You were being sarcastic then, too."

She felt him move a little restlessly against her cheek. "You've been prayin' your whole life. What has it got you? A jerk of a husband who'd spend his days beatin' on you and a little girl taken away from you. What is the use in believin' in God? What has God ever given you for all of that prayin'?"

"You," said Carol simply. She turned her head back to look back up at him. "He gave me you." Carol could see the look of shock on Daryl's face at that.

He scowled, looking uncomfortable at being given that kind of importance. "I ain't no prize."

Carol gave a sad little smile, knowing Daryl still doubted his own worth. "Yes, you are," she corrected him softly. "There isn't one person in our group that doesn't owe their life to you many times over."

Daryl looked away, moving a little restlessly. When he looked back, it was to move down so he was on the same step as her. He took Carol's bandaged hand in his own, looking it over. "How much damage did the jackass do to you?"

Her hand was still aching, but Carol didn't think it was a good idea to tell Daryl that. She noticed the missing skin on his knuckles. "How much damage did you do to the jackass?" she returned wryly.

"He'll live," grunted Daryl, sounding like he wasn't overly thrilled by the prospect.

Carol watched him carefully undo the bandages Hershel had just put on her. She didn't protest, knowing Daryl needed to be doing something right then, so she let him be. Carol knew he'd have difficulty processing his importance to her, so she let him distract them both. Blood was still oozing from her fresh stitches when Daryl pulled back the wadding over it.

Daryl's brow was furrowed in concern. "This thing ain't never gonna heal at this rate," he muttered as he examined the latest damage caused by Axel.

Carol looked at her still bleeding hand, raw and swollen from the freshly re-opened wound. "Maybe some wounds aren't meant to heal," she said quietly. "Maybe you just learn to live with them."

Daryl's serious blue eyes met hers. "Maybe," he said, voice low and gravelly. Daryl looked back at her hand and gently wrapped it back up again. "You wanted to be alone today," he said roughly, making to stand. "I'll leave you be."

Carol stalled him with a hand on his thigh. "I can be alone with you here," she said quietly.

Daryl hesitated for the briefest moment and then he was sitting back down beside her on the step. Their sides were touching, this time running from shoulder to ankle. Carol knew what it was for Daryl to let her this close to him. He'd always had a very well-defined personal space and rarely invited people into it. Carol was just glad this was one of those times. She pushed her luck and leaned her head onto his shoulder and borrowed his strength for a little bit, needing it right then. Daryl didn't move away like she expected him to. Instead he rested his cheek on top of her head. Neither one spoke, just silently shared their memories and grief for Sophia together on those stairs, letting the end of the world go on without them for a few stolen minutes.

"I wonder if this is how people always get close:

they heal each other's wounds; they repair the broken skin."

~_Lauren Oliver_~

_Pandemonium_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N****: Thank you again to all the wonderful people who are reading, commenting and favouriting this story. It means a lot to me and you're all amazing. :D **

**Now, after all that closeness for Daryl and Carol in the last chapter, I felt like I needed to open this fic out a bit if I wanted to continue it. I wanted to include the rest of the group so it doesn't feel too claustrophobic with only Daryl and Carol interacting. Of course, there will be plenty of that, but it's always good to step away from that, so it makes it nice to step back... if that makes sense? **

**Anyways, this chapter is about opening things up a bit more. I actually had 3 ideas for TWD fanfics, but now I'm thinking they'll all work if I combine them all into this story. I hope I can keep you all interested long enough to hang around for them. :)**

**Okay, let's go with the chapter, curious to know how you think I did with all of the interactions... **

**Chapter Six**

Carol smiled down at Judith as she waved her arms and legs around on the rug on the ground. The little girl made pleased gurgling noises as she enjoyed being outdoors. "You having fun, honey?" she asked the baby. Judith turned her head at the sound of Carol's voice, short-sightedly peering in her direction. Carol gave a little laugh and went back to hanging out the washing. They'd set up a few lines in an internal courtyard, away from the eyes of people passing by. It wouldn't do to advertise that there were people holed up in the prison. That was just inviting trouble and they had enough of that already. Although, things had been surprisingly quiet the last couple of weeks. Carol tried not to think of it as the lull before the storm. She looked up as Rick walked out from the building, a gun in his holster and a rifle slung over his back. "You heading on out?"

Rick nodded and crouched down by Judith, tickling her toes. "Yeah, we've got to find that breach in the gate today."

Carol shook out a shirt of Hershel's before hanging it on the line. "It mustn't be that big of a breach if you're having this much trouble finding it."

"Walkers are still getting through," he sighed. "Carl and me found another six or so in the south corridor yesterday. We've looked all over those walls and haven't found squat."

"Maybe they're coming in a different way and congregating on the south wing?" reasoned Carol.

"Maybe," agreed Rick. "As long as they haven't figured out how to climb. That's my real worry."

"We haven't seen any evidence of them getting any smarter." Carol turned one of Carl's t-shirts right way out.

Rick nodded, still playing with his daughter. "I guess." He tickled Judith's belly. "You like it out here, don't you?"

"It's not good for a baby to be inside all the time," said Carol. "Their bones need the Vitamin D from the sun."

"Well, that we can give you, little one," said Rick. His face saddened. "Even if there ain't much else your daddy can give you."

"Don't you be talking like that," Carol chastised him gently. "Judith is surrounded by people who adore her and would protect her with their lives. Plus we have enough food for her for a good while now. That's all a baby needs."

Rick gave her an appreciative smile. "Thank you, Carol, for takin' such good care of my little girl," he said warmly.

"You know it's no kind of hardship," said Carol softly. "So I don't need any thanks. You just bring yourself home safe and sound. That's what Judith really needs."

Rick nodded. "Plannin' on it."

Carl walked out into the courtyard now, all set to go on the patrol with his father, with his gun in his holster and his father's hat on his head. "Daryl wants to know what we're waiting for," he relayed the message to his father. Carl bent down and tugged on Judith's toes. "Hey, smelly butt."

"People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones," noted Carol as she walked by the three of them to get the next basket of clothes.

Carl looked confused. "What?"

Rick gave a little chuckle. "I think Carol is meanin' you don't exactly smell like a flower either, Carl."

"I had a bath yesterday," Carl protested.

"It's that hat," observed Carol as she started to hang out the next load of washing. "It really needs a good clean." Nearly a year's worth of sweat, blood , dirt and bits of Walker had taken its toll on the item of clothing. She glanced over at the boy. "Why don't you leave it here with me today and I'll see what I can do about getting the worst of the stink out of it?"

Carl put a protective hand to his hat. "I ain't leavin' my hat."

"Aren't," Rick corrected him on reflex.

"You and Daryl say ain't," shot back Carl.

"Don't mean it's right," drawled his father.

Carl looked over at Carol. "Can you clean it when I get back?"

"Of course," said Carol easily. She knew that Deputy's hat was important to Carl. It was like as soon as his father had given it to him, Carl had begun to see himself differently. Like, if he had the hat, then he was man enough to do what needed to be done in this harsh new world. Carl looked happy at their compromise.

"I'm takin' Daryl, Carl and Axel out to find this hole," Rick informed her. "Oscar's on lookout."

Carol kept hanging up clothes. "Okay."

"Carl can stay if you think you need him."

"I want to go with you," protested Carl.

Rick ignored him and was looking at Carol with vague concern. She shook her head at him. "Hershel, Beth and I will be fine," said Carol calmly. "We can look after ourselves."

Rick smiled. "I know."

"So, I'm going?" asked Carl.

"Yeah, you're going," agreed Rick.

Carl grinned and straightened up. He walked over to the other side of the courtyard while Rick and Carol continued talking.

"I'll relieve Oscar at midday," she told Rick. "He'll need a break by then." Carol eyed Rick. "You okay with him being around Judith?"

"I guess I have to be," sighed Rick. He half-smiled at Carol from where he was still crouched by Judith. "Someone told me that if Oscar and Axel are going to stick around, then they have to be a proper part of the group."

"Sounds like a smart someone," noted Carol, straight-faced.

"I reckon so." Rick's attention was caught by Carl. His son had his back up against the far wall, arms outstretched from his side as far as they could go. Carl turned his head back and forth between his two hands. Rick sent Carol a confused look.

Carol smiled and answered his silent question. "Daryl told Carl that when he could touch those two white bricks with either hand at the same time, his arms would be long enough for Daryl to start teaching him to use his crossbow. Carl comes out every day and measures himself between those two bricks, just to see if he's grown enough yet."

Rick's lips quirked. "I guess it's good he has something to look forward to." He pulled a face. "I kinda wish it wasn't something death-related for a change. I don't know, like having a crush on a girl, but I guess that is pretty hard these days." Rick noticed the way Carol was looking at him. "What?"

She arched an eyebrow. "I'm just wondering if you should be shooting those guns with that poor eyesight of yours?"

"What do you mean?" asked Rick in confusion.

Carol went back to hanging out the wash. "I mean your son has himself a very big crush on Beth."

Rick made a surprised face. "He does?"

Carol's lips twitched. "It's pretty obvious. He lights up around her."

Rick scowled. "How can I not have noticed something like that?"

"You have a lot to think about, Rick," Carol said gently.

"But he's my son," said Rick in agitation. "A father should pay more attention."

Carol could see how upset Rick was over this. She cupped his face and smiled warmly up at him. "You're doing the best you can to keep us all safe and together. The fact that your son has time and any kind of hope to have his first crush is down to you, Rick. Don't you forget that."

Rick covered her hand with his, looking suddenly emotional.

Carol leaned in a little closer to him, wanting Rick to know the truth. "We're a family, Rick, and that means we take care of our own. You may not always be able to be with Carl, but one of us always will. There will always be people looking out for him."

"You-" Rick's voice cracked a little and he looked away briefly before managing to continue. "You don't know what it means to me to hear that."

"Yes, I do," said Carol simply, remembering what it had felt like to know everyone in the group had been so intent on finding Sophia. The feeling she wasn't alone in it all had meant everything to her.

"What is this?" demanded a loud voice. "Some kinda lady's tea party or what?"

Carol dropped her hand from Rick's face as he quickly looked away and blinked the tears from his eyes. She looked over at Daryl, crossbow resting on his shoulder, other hand stretched out in front of him in an expression of exasperation.

"Rick was just saying goodbye to Judith," she chastised him teasingly, "hold your horses."

"Ass-kicker can't talk, how long is that gonna take?" Daryl's made a noise of feigned annoyance. "A man's likely to die waitin' at this rate."

Carl had hurried over to Daryl. "I'm ready."

"Guess we're just waitin' on your daddy then."

"I'm ready," said Rick bending down and kissing Judith goodbye before sending Carol a quick look. "Thank you."

Carol wasn't sure if Rick was thanking her for their little talk or looking after Judith, but either way she just smiled. "You're welcome."

Daryl walked over to Judith and looked down at her, a bit of smile on his lips. He looked back at Carol, a quiet instruction in his gaze. _Stay safe_. Carol half-smiled, acknowledging the silent instruction. "I know." She watched them leave, that same pit in the bottom of her stomach she always felt when the group separated for whatever reason. There was nothing to be done about it though, it was just how things were. Carol looked back down at Judith who'd just discovered her feet. She grabbed hold of her foot with one pudgy hand, making noises of amazement. Looking at Judith gave her so much hope for the future, that Jenner had been wrong, that this wasn't how it ended. Carol smiled, letting herself just enjoy the little girl for a few moments and not think about just surviving for a change.

**ooooOOOOooo**

"Axel, watch what you're doin'!" snapped Rick, as he jerked his hand way just in time to miss Axel taking a finger off with the wire cutters.

"I'm sorry," whined Axel defensively as he glanced over at Daryl, "but he's makin' me nervous."

"Am I makin' you stupid too?" shot back Daryl, unrepentant. They'd finally found what they thought was the breach in the fence. The wire hadn't looked to be broken, but when you pressed on it, a part of the wire link had come away from the main fence frame. Rick and Axel had set about wiring it back up, while he and Carl kept guard for Walkers outside the fence. The occasional one would wander over and they'd let it get close before dispatching the hapless creature with a lead pipe or knife.

"I can't concentrate because he's always watchin' me," complained Axel from where he was squatted down on the ground, holding the fence closed, as Rick moved in to finish tying off the wire.

"You can't concentrate because you fried your brains with too much weed," said Daryl in annoyance. "And I gotta watch you or you're likely to kill one of us."

"I wouldn't do that," protested Axel. "I'm on your side."

Daryl still found the presence of Axel to be particularly annoying, not having forgiven him for what he did to Carol, or his generally irritating personality. "Just as well you said so, it's a bit hard to tell when you're always trying to kill us."

"I ain't hurt no one in the group 'cept for Carol."

Daryl's expression darkened at the reminder and how Axel seemed to figure her not important enough to worry about.

Axel must have realised his mistake because he quickly tried to backtrack. "Not that hurtin' her was alright. I keep sayin', it was an accident and if Carol wouldn't keep puttin' her hand in the way of-"

Daryl made a violent move towards Axel for daring to blame Carol for what happened and Axel quickly stood up to get out of his way. In his haste to escape, Axel didn't look for where Rick was, and cracked the top of his head up under Rick's jaw. There was an audible click as Rick's mouth snapped shut from the blow.

Rick staggered back, hand flying to his mouth and shaking his head. "Shit!"

"Dad!" said Carl anxiously. "You okay?"

Rick licked at his bloody lip and shot Axel a glare. "I'm fine, Carl, just bit my lip. It's nothing."

Daryl shook his head in disgust at Axel. "You know what I think? I reckon shit for brains her is a double agent. He's workin' for the Walkers, tryin' to take us down from the inside, body part by body part."

Carl giggled and Daryl sent the boy a conspiratorial wink at appreciating his humour.

"I ain't workin' for the Walkers," said Axel unevenly, clearly not sure if they were joking or not.

"You ain't workin' at all, boy," complained Daryl. "This'd be done now if you weren't fixed on being such a dumb ass all the live long day."

Axel pouted at Daryl. "You know, sometimes I reckon you're mean just for the sake of bein' mean."

Daryl sent him a warning look. "You think this is mean? Boy, you don't know how mean I can get when I put my mind to it."

"Okay, enough, you two," said Rick, distractedly dabbing at his lip. "Axel, help me finish up this fence with no more bloodshed and Daryl, just keep watch, okay? I'd like to get back to the cellblock before lunch, if I can."

Axel jerked a finger at Daryl. "Make him stop watching me."

Rick sighed. "Daryl."

Daryl shrugged. "It's your life, just don't come cryin' to me if dumb ass here ends up tyin' your nads to the fence." With that, Daryl wandered off a little ways up the fence line. He glanced over his shoulder to see Carl dispatch another Walker who'd caught wind of Rick's injury. It probably shouldn't have been, but it was impressive to see the kid ram his knife through the Walker's forehead without batting an eyelid. Daryl turned his attention back to the ground in front of him. He crouched down for a closer look at the marks on the ground. "Looks like a whole mess of Walkers got through," he called back to the others. "There are a lot of footprints here." This wasn't good news. The prints looked fresh.

"You sure there aren't just a couple that stood over the same spot?" Rick queried him as he and Axel finished off the fence.

"No." Daryl's practice eye read the story the marks were telling him. "At least ten or so different ones, maybe more." He grimaced. "Probably more." Daryl straightened up and tracked the prints for a few more feet. "They're heading towards the south entrance."

"Carol guessed as much," said Rick, tying off the last piece of wire. "She thought they were getting in one place and ending up on the south side."

"How long ago did they pass through, Daryl?" asked Carl, still keeping an eye on the Walkers outside the fence.

Daryl frowned. "These are pretty fresh. No more than twelve hours old."

Axel was wiping his hands on his prison greys. "Does that mean we've got a whole gang of Walkers inside the prison?" he asked nervously.

"Herd," Carl corrected him. "We call them herds."

"Okay, herds. Is there a herd of Walkers inside the prison?"

"Looks like," said Daryl unhappily.

"I think they're heading towards the south entrance because of the noise the generator makes," suggested Rick. "They're drawn to the noise."

"But we sealed off that area yesterday," Carl prompted him. "Remember, Dad, we locked it up."

Axel pulled on his moustache. "So, what, they'd be heading back this way?"

Rick and Daryl exchanged glances, knowing there was another option.

Daryl's expression didn't change. "I reckon we should be gettin' back to the cellblock," he said calmly.

"I reckon you're right," said Rick grimly. The group quickly packed up and started to head back towards the cellblock, everyone picking up the pace a little without having to be told. They were still a fair distance away when they heard the first shot.

Daryl tensed, recognising the sound of Hershel's shotgun. The old man didn't have much manoeuvrability these days. If he was letting off rounds, it was near the cellblock. Daryl just reacted. He broke into a run, Rick doing the same behind him. Axel was a little slower to react, but soon all three men were running as fast as they could towards the cellblock, with Carl doing his best to keep up. Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest as he barrelled through the gate leading to the cellblock. More shots were being fired, fast and close together, like there was panic going on. They ran into the cellblock to find the place overrun with Walkers. Beth and Hershel were holed up in the sleeping quarters, trying to hold about ten Walkers at bay. Beth was struggling to close the door between them and the Walkers as they pressed against it. Daryl and Rick exploded into the bay which led into the sleeping quarters. Daryl quickly dispatched a Walker with his crossbow and then went to work on the rest with his knife. Rick was by his side, slashing and cutting his way through their rotting flesh and even Axel was managing to add to the body count. Carl had caught them up now and shot a bullet into a Walker about to lunge at Daryl who was busy taking the head off another one.

"Beth, Hershel!" Rick yelled out as he fought. "You alright?!"

"Yes!" Hershel called back as he was now by Beth's side, helping her close the gate between them.

"Where's Carol and Judith?" asked Rick, trying to look into the sleeping area while he fought off Walkers. "They with you?"

"No," gasped Beth, stabbing at Walkers through the bars. "I think they're still in the courtyard. I'm not sure. We looked up and Walkers were everywhere."

"Holy shit!" Oscar had joined the fray now, having heard the shots as well and come running from his lookout. A Walker swung round and leapt at him, forcing Oscar to kick his way clear and then cave its head in with the butt of his rifle.

"I'm goin' for Carol and Judith," yelled Daryl to Rick. He was closest to the door, it made sense, but he would have gone even if it didn't.

"We're right behind you," said Rick urgently as only a few Walkers remained. "Hurry."

Daryl didn't need to be told. He was wracking his brain trying to remember if he'd seen any kind of weapon on Carol that morning, before they'd left. It was rare for any of them to do anything without at least a knife to their name. Daryl was trying not to panic as he couldn't remember Carol having anything to defend herself with. It would have been just her and a helpless baby if the rest of the Walker pack had found its way out to her. He tore down the stairs which led to the outdoor courtyard, jumping the last four in one bound as a growing terror over what he might find all but consumed him. Daryl reached the door and raised his crossbow, bracing himself as he kicked open the door. He looked through the sight of the crossbow, sweeping from left to right as he looked for her. "Carol!" he called out. "Carol!" Daryl's ears strained to hear a reply. He edged into the courtyard, taking in the over turned basket laundry and the fact that one of the lines of clothes had been pulled down. Judith's blanket was screwed up and Daryl quickly moved over to it. Looking down he saw drops of dark blood on it, Walker blood. "Fuck!" he growled, trying not to fear the worst. Daryl looked over at the only other door out of the courtyard, knowing Carol must have fled with Judith through there. He was running towards it as Rick and Axel appeared.

"Did you find them?" asked Rick anxiously.

"This way," called out Daryl, not even looking back as he ran back into the prison. The corridors were tight with plenty of areas to be boxed in. Plenty of places to get yourself dead. A lump was in Daryl's throat as he raced towards the unknown, Rick hot on his heels as they chased down the Walkers with Carol and Judith in their sights...

**A/N****: I mentioned my cliff hanger fetish, right? ;) Oh and in case folks are worried, this fic isn't always going to be a 'Carol in danger, Daryl to the rescue' kinda fic. I mean, the whole group ends up saving each other on a regular basis, so it won't always be one way. Just sayin'. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N****: Sorry this chapter took a little longer than I'd hoped to get to you guys. Thanks for your patience. **

**I kind of see this story in three parts. The first part is all about Carol dealing with her past, the next will be all about Daryl and the third part, well, that's a secret at this point. ;) **

**Thank you as always for reading, faving, following and of course, commenting. This kind of fic is a lot of work, so it's always wonderful to get some feedback to keep you going. :D **

**Okay, so, let's see what's happened to Carol and Judith, hmm? Read on... **

**Chapter Seven **

Daryl ran down the corridors of the prison, crossbow at the ready, with Rick close behind him and Axel bringing up the rear. Through the blood pounding in his ears Daryl thought he heard a noise. "Wait!" he said urgently, abruptly stopping.

Rick and Axel stopped as well. Rick gave Daryl a concerned look. "What? What is it?"

Daryl cocked his head, listening intently. "Can you hear that?" All the men were breathing loudly from the adrenalin-fuelled running and it was interfering with the faint sound. "Hold your breaths," he instructed them sharply. The other two complied and Daryl strained to catch what he'd heard in the first place. It came again, a noise from a long way off. A baby crying.

"Judith," hissed Rick, face drawn in fear as he too heard the faint cries.

"I can't hear nothin'," said Axel.

Daryl and Rick ignored him. Rick sent Daryl a stressed look. "I can't tell which way it's comin' from."

Daryl closed his eyes and concentrated. Years of hunting had taught him how to focus in on sounds and be able to centre on which way they were coming from. It was harder in the prison, sound bouncing off walls and creating false leads, but the more he listened to Judith's wailing, the surer he was he knew. Daryl pointed to his right. "She's this way." He took off running again, the others following.

"She's crying," said Rick beside him as they ran, "that's a good thing, right?"

The truth was none of them knew if a baby who'd become a Walker would still cry. "She's alive," said Daryl grimly, focusing on that. No one wanted to think what would have to happen next if Walkers had gotten to her. "We just need to get to her."

"Why aren't we seein' any Walkers?" fretted Axel, keeping up with them.

Daryl didn't want to think about the answer to that question. He didn't want to think about them congregating in one area up ahead and feeding. "Shut up and run," he bit out, picking up the pace. Daryl led them through the winding corridors, the sounds of Judith's cries getting louder with each turn. The baby was really bellowing her lungs out and Daryl fought back the panic for what that meant for both her and Carol. Up ahead there was another turn to the right and Daryl could see a man's foot sticking out around the corner, on the ground. Judith's cries were very loud now, so he knew they were nearly there. They all slowed to round the corner, weapons raised as they edged around, preparing for the worst. Daryl stepped out around the corner first and took in a lot of things at once. They were in a dead end corridor, which ended with a door about ten feet away. Dead Walkers were scattered everywhere on the ground, at least seven of them by Daryl's quick count. It was dark and Daryl squinted to see through the low light, just as a figure launched itself at him with a guttural cry. The figure was on him, armed raised and it was only Daryl's finely honed reflexes that stopped him putting an arrow through Carol's chest. "Shit!" he cried out. He dropped his crossbow, grabbing at Carol's raised wrist to stop her from plunging a knife into his brain. "Carol, it's me, it's alright!" he shouted at her, as she struggled, clearly just attacking blindly.

She gave a gasp and stopped struggling, staring up at him wide eyed. "D-Daryl," she whispered, looking shell-shocked.

Daryl looked back at her in real concern. Carol looked like a crazy woman, eyes filled with a manic glaze and she was covered in blood, from head to toe. He realised in an instance that she must have ended up being cornered by the Walkers and been fighting her way through them in a frenzy. "It's alright," he comforted her as best he could, grabbing both her arms now. "You're safe." He felt her go limp, dropping the knife.

"Judith," said Rick urgently, climbing his way over the body's of the despatched Walkers and tearing open the door to the closet Carol had put the baby in. Judith's screams were deafening as Rick quickly bent down and picked her up off the ground, cuddling his little girl close to him. "Oh God," he said weakly. "Judith."

"Is she alright?" asked Daryl, still hanging onto Carol.

Rick's hands swept over Judith's body, looking for any marks as the baby continued to scream her head off. "She's fine," he said emotionally, clutching her to his body and trying to sooth her. "She's fine," he repeated, tears filling his eyes. Rick rocked the little girl in his arms and her cries started to lessen.

Carol sagged underneath Daryl's hands and she took an unsteady step backwards, breaking contact with him. She backed away from them all, eyes on Judith. Carol's back hit the wall behind her and she slid down it, ending up sitting on the ground amongst the corpses of the Walkers. Her knees were pulled up to her chest as she just continued to stare at Judith in Rick's arms. She began shaking uncontrollably.

Axel was looking around at all the dead Walkers. "Carol," he said her name in disbelief. "Did you kill all these Walkers by yourself?"

Daryl could now count nine Walkers littering the ground. He pictured Carol boxed in, her back literally against the wall as she'd fought tooth and nail to protect Judith. The fear must have been excruciating. Daryl walked over and crouched down beside the still shaking Carol. He searched her blood-stained face but she didn't seem to register his presence. Glancing over at Rick, the two men registered concern with each other over her. Daryl lay his crossbow down beside them and pulled the bottom of his shirt up and used it to clean away the worst of the blood covering Carol's face. He wiped along her cheeks and forehead, scrapping away at the blood to try to get to the traumatised woman underneath. "It's okay," he soothed her. "You're okay, you and Judith made it. You saved her."

The sound of his voice had Carol finally meeting Daryl's worried gaze. "She-she's alright?" Carol asked fearfully.

Rick was quickly by her side. He crouched down like Daryl, showing Carol the now sniffling Judith in his arms. "She's fine," Rick assured her quickly. "Look."

Carol reached out a shaking, bloodied hand to touch the little girl but drew it back when she saw the state it was in.

Rick moved his hand to grab her retreating one. "She's alright, Carol," he reassured her quickly. "You saved her."

Carol covered her hands with her face and her shaking worsened.

"We need to get them out of here," said Daryl urgently.

Rick nodded, face lined with worry for Carol. "Axel, you stay here and clear away the bodies. Take them out to the west fence, we'll deal with them later."

"What, alone?" asked Axel unhappily.

"Quit your complainin', dumbass," said Daryl shortly, his focus on Carol. "Just do it." His voice softened as he addressed Carol, tone low and gravelly. "It's okay, Carol, we're going now." Daryl moved to pick her up, not sure she could walk but Carol dropped her hands from her face and shook her head.

"I can walk." Her voice was dull and lifeless.

Daryl's hands hovered over her as Carol slowly attempted to stand. She swayed a little and Daryl immediately took her arm. He slipped his other arm around her waist. "Come on," he said gruffly, "lean on me." At first Carol didn't comply, but when they took a step forward, her legs were too shaky not to. Daryl held onto her tightly as all four of them made steady progress back to the cellblock, leaving a disgruntled Axel to clean up the mess.

**oooOOOOooo**

Glenn took a seat between Maggie and Beth. "I can't believe that many Walkers made it into the cellblock," he said unhappily as they all sat together to eat their evening meal. Oscar and Carl were on lookout and already had their dinners.

"It was a close call," agreed Hershel.

Maggie grimaced as she looked at Glenn. "Looks like you and me picked a bad time to make that run into town."

"It had to be done," asserted Rick. "None of us could have picked something like that would have happened." He looked over at Carol, who was feeding Judith. "At least everyone is alright," said Rick gratefully. His gaze moved over to Daryl, who was intently watching Carol between mouthfuls of food. Rick understood the other man's worrying. Carol had been very quiet since they'd arrived back at the cellblock. She'd gone off by herself to clean up and when she returned she was at least talking but Rick was still concerned about her. He glanced over at Daryl again and knew Daryl was too. They exchanged looks, both of them not certain what to do to fix this.

"Will the patch up job on the fence keep out any more Walkers?" asked Beth fretfully.

"Yes," said Rick without hesitation.

"Here's hoping it's the only one," said Axel around a mouthful of stew.

Rick glared at him for his poorly-timed honesty. "We'll do more sweeps tomorrow," he promised them all. "We're going to make this prison secure. What happened today isn't going to happen again."

"You don't know that," said Carol. Everyone gave her nervous looks and she returned them calmly. "But it's alright, because we handled it." She looked back down at Judith in her arms and gave a little smile. "That's what we do now, we handle things." Carol glanced back at them. "This group is strong, we can face down whatever happens."

"Yeah, we are," drawled Rick, pleased to hear Carol sound so positive. Just pleased to hear her speaking, really.

Judith fretted in Carol's arms now that her bottle was empty. Carol put Judith over her shoulder and patted her back. The little girl let out an enormous belch the echoed off the concrete walls. The others couldn't help but laugh.

"Damn," said Daryl in amusement to Rick, "that girl of yours can burp like a drunken trucker."

Carol patted Judith's back as the little girl settled down now. "Don't you listen to them, honey, you're a lady and always will be."

"Yeah, a lady trucker," quipped Glenn.

"Hey," said Rick teasingly, "that's my little girl you're talking about." It felt good to have these moments of levity. They rarely had enough of them. That just wasn't how things were now.

"Look, she's all settled down," noted Axel to Carol, ever ready to ingratiate himself. "You've got the touch, Carol. You were like a mother grizzly protectin' her cub today. It's a shame you don't have any kids, you'd have been a great mom."

Rick felt Daryl go rigid beside him at Axel's offhand comment and a sudden tension fill the room. He glanced around at the faces of the others and saw sadness and regret in them all.

Carol gave a weak smile. "I think it was time this little girl was in bed," she said quietly and stood up, carrying Judith up the stairs to her makeshift nursery.

"Did I say somethin' wrong?" asked the clueless Axel. "I just meant it's a shame she didn't have a kid of her own, she's so good with the little one."

"Don't you ever shut the hell up?" growled Daryl, standing up abruptly and stalking out of the room. Everyone was avoiding looking at each other.

Axel watched him leave and shook his head. "I don't know if anyone has ever told y'all this before, but you are one uptight bunch of people."

"Just eat your dinner, Axel," said Rick dully.

The conversation continued on with a different subject. Rick quickly finished his dinner and headed on upstairs, wanting to check in on Judith. He headed up the stairs and found Carol sitting on the bottom bunk in his cell, patting the baby to sleep as Judith grizzled and moved about restlessly.

Carol looked up as he walked in. "She's a bit fussy tonight."

"It's been a tough day for her." Rick gave Carol an intent look. "For both of you."

Carol didn't respond. Instead she stood up and offered her seat to Rick. "Why don't you try? I think Judith needs her daddy right now."

Rick sat down by the baby carrier which was Judith's new crib, thanks to Carol's find in town the other week. He patted her stomach as her little limbs flailed around a bit. "It's alright, little one," he crooned to her. "Daddy's here." His own words brought unexpected tears to Rick's eyes and he tried to blink them back. He kept his gaze on Judith as he spoke to Carol. "I-I'll never be able to repay you for what you did today, Carol."

"I didn't know we were keeping score," she chastised him gently. "There is nothing to repay. You know that."

Rick's chest tightened as he imagined what could have happened today. He was flooded with intense regret as he looked down at the baby who already looked so much like her mother. "Lori and me, at the end-" Rick's words were choked off by a ground swell of emotion. He tried again. "I wasn't the husband she deserved at the end."

"Rick." Carol said his name compassionately and stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Rick shook his head, blinking back tears as Judith started to settle, little eyes dropping as sleep finally came for her. He continued patting her on instinct, but inside Rick felt like he was being ripped open as unwanted memories came back to him. "After Shane died and we lost the farm, all I could think about was keeping everyone alive, keeping Lori and our baby alive. I figured if I could do that, it'd make up for not bein' able to say the things she needed me to say to her." Rick's voice cracked as he continued. "I couldn't give her what she needed. I tried, but it just wasn't in me. I figured we'd get the baby birthed and we'd have time to figure it all out." He made a strangled noise. "Why the hell did I think that? No one has any time anymore." Rick knew why, it was because he hadn't wanted to face all the things that had gone on between him and Lori. He'd been a coward, pretending to be the hero by providing safety for Lori and their children and running from everything else between them. "I abandoned her," Rick choked out, suddenly overwhelmed with grief. "I risked everythin' to save all those other people, Glenn, Hershel, hell, even Merle, but when it came to my own wife, I abandoned her." His face crumpled as he put a hand up to cover it. Judith was asleep now, oblivious to her father's grief.

"Don't," said Carol quietly and then she was moving to comfort him.

Rick had come to check in on Judith and Carol and offer support to the woman who'd been through such horror today. Instead though, he found himself unable to turn away from the consoling she offered. Rick buried his face in Carol's stomach as she wrapped her arms around him, rubbing his back soothingly. "I'm sorry," he said emotionally against her stomach, as his own arms wrapped themselves around her waist and held on tightly. It'd been so long since he'd allowed himself to seek real comfort from someone, it was like a dam had burst inside of him. "I shouldn't be doing this." He didn't let her go though.

"You're our leader, Rick, it doesn't mean you have to be an island," said Carol simply.

Rick actually looked up at her in surprise, still holding onto her waist.

Carol half-smiled. "You think none of us can see what you're doing?" she asked wryly. "You figured that because you're our leader, you shouldn't look to us for any kind of emotional support. That you gave that up when you took on the role of being responsible for us all."

Rick blinked, shocked by Carol's words. "That-that ain't what I was doing." Even as Rick said those words, he realised they were a lie. Carol was right. He'd tried to shut down that part of him that needed others, figuring it was a weakness he didn't deserve to have. And Lori had been the first victim of that unconscious resolve.

"Of course it was," said Carol calmly. "But, as dear as you are to me, Rick Grimes, I'm here to tell you you're an idiot. You need to need us, just like we need to need you. You're not alone and I think it's time you came to terms with that." She put a hand to the back of his head and rubbed it gently. "Now, I think you need to spend some time with your little girl. I'll leave you two be." Carol stepped back, breaking contact between them. She turned to leave.

Rick stood up. "Carol."

Carol turned around and gave him a questioning look.

Rick closed the small distance between them and wrapped Carol up in a giant hug, this time offering comfort to her. It was like her words had released something in him he hadn't been aware he'd been holding back. "I'm so glad you're alright," he whispered into her ear. "Thank you for what you did for Judith today. Thank you, thank you."

Carol returned the hug, not answering but silently accepting his gratitude.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl leant his elbows on the metal guard rail of the walkway directly across from Rick's cell. He watched Rick and Carol hugging as Maggie came to stand beside him.

She looked at the pair across the way and smiled. "I'm so glad everything turned out okay today."

Daryl made a non-committed noise.

Maggie looked at him in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"Nothin'," said Daryl, his tone terse.

Maggie looked back at Rick and Carol who were only now breaking the hug. "Judith all safe and sound tucked up in bed and Carol seems alright," she observed.

"Yeah," said Daryl flatly, "but she ain't." Something was off with Carol, Daryl could just feel it. Something wasn't right with her.

Maggie hesitated. "Look, it all just happened. She's probably just in a bit of shock still."

"Maybe," grunted Daryl as he straightened up. Carol was walking back to her cell now.

"It's real sweet how you worry over her."

Daryl sent Maggie a sharp look for that.

Maggie pursed her lips. "You're not going to throw me off the walkway for sayin' that, are you?" she teased him.

"I'm thinkin' about it," deadpanned Daryl.

"The gigs up, Daryl Dixon," she sassed him. "We all know you're a good guy, there is no use in pretendin' otherwise now." Maggie nudged him playfully and then wandered off.

Daryl gave a little snort of feigned annoyance but then his attention was back on Carol. He made his way around the other side of the walkway, so that he ended up standing in her cell door.

Carol was sitting on her bunk and looked up when he appeared. "Hey."

"Hey," he returned gruffly, looking her over. "You need anythin'?"

Carol shook her head. "No, I just figured I'd go to bed." She gave a little stretch. "I'm kinda sore all over."

Images flashed through Daryl's mind's eye of Carol fighting for her life against that herd of Walkers. No wonder she was sore. He frowned. "You're shakin'."

Carol looked surprised to hear that. She looked down at herself. "It's a bit cold tonight," she hedged. "Guess I'm feeling the chill in the air."

There was no chill in the air. If anything it was a warm night. Nonetheless, Daryl scooped up the light sweater hanging over the end of the bunk bed and carried it to Carol. She stood up to take it but he helped her into it instead, standing behind her so he could place the sweater onto her shoulders.

"You're hovering," Carol chastised him gently as she slipped her arms into the garment.

He scowled. "No, I ain't."

"Please don't worry about me," she begged him quietly. Carol looked back over her shoulder at him, face serious. "I'm alright."

Daryl looked back at her, seeing something in her eyes that told him that wasn't true.

"I'm just tired. I need to get some sleep, is all."

"I can-I can stay, if you want. Sit with you for awhile." Daryl hesitantly tried to find a way to break through that wall he suddenly felt between them.

Carol turned around, her expression hard to read. "No, you don't need to do that."

"I want to."

She gave a little shrug. "Guess I can't stop you." She lay down on the bed and pulled up the covers.

Daryl backed up against the wall adjacent to Carol's bed and crouched down against it. He sat there for a long time after he heard her breathing become shallow, signalling Carol had fallen asleep. He kept a silent vigil, not sure what else he could do for her but needing to do something. Maybe she was right and by tomorrow that look in Carol's eyes would be gone.

Daryl could only hope...


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N****: Thank you to everyone who let me know they enjoyed the last chapter. As always, comments are a real boost and help me know what you're enjoying or want to see more of. :D **

**I was intent on telling a Caryl story with this fic, but the makeup of TWD means that you can't tell one or even two character's stories, without involving others. None of them are islands, they all directly impact on each other. So, I'm actually having fun investigating other relationships with the characters on my way to coming up with my version of Caryl. TWD writers have laid out such a rich canvas of players in their world, that there really is an embarrassment of riches to play around with. **

**For those of you who are interested, I'll give you my thoughts on this chapter at the end. I want you to make up your own minds reading this, before I put my take on things. ;) **

**Thanks for reading as always. :D **

**Chapter Eight **

Hershel turned Carol's hand over and back again, examining it closely. "This all looks pretty good to me." He looked across the table at her. "I think we can do away with the bandages from now on."

"Good," said Carol in relief. "It was such a waste."

"I don't see how keeping you from getting sick from an infection is a waste," said Hershel mildly, "but we'll agree to differ on the matter."

Carol gave a little smile. "Thank you for taking such good care of my wound, Hershel. I appreciate it."

Hershel set about putting away the first aid supplies. "I'm a one-legged old man during a zombie apocalypse," he said wryly. "Truth be told, I'm more than a little happy to have a function round here."

"You know you're important to us all," Carol reminded him.

"I know if we ever have to leave this prison, I'm going to be more of a liability then I already am."

Carol frowned. "We'll take care of you, Hershel, no matter what happens. You needn't worry about that."

"It's not a question of would you, but should you," said Hershel evenly.

"I don't like you talking this way," said Carol unevenly.

Hershel shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout me, missy. I'm just an old man runnin' off at the mouth." He tapped her hand. "And you'd best turn that frown upside down otherwise I'm worried about what your guardian angel might do to me," Hershel finished off teasingly. "I don't want him on my tail for makin' you unhappy."

Carol didn't have to look around to know who Hershel was talking about. Daryl was on the walkway above them, supposedly cleaning his crossbow, but Carol was aware he'd been keeping an even closer eye on Hershel tending to her wound. She sighed. "He's become my shadow these last few days."

"You got a problem with a redneck with a crossbow following your every move?" asked Hershel, straight-faced. "Now then, I don't see why that would be."

Carol gave a little laugh but then screwed up her face. "He worries too much about me. It's not right."

"A little worry for others does that boy good," Hershel countered. "I reckon his whole life he's been workin' towards not carin' 'bout anything." He looked across at Carol. "It ain't healthy, you know that."

Carol looked away. "I know." She rubbed the healing wound on her hand absently. Carol knew Hershel was speaking out of concern for her, just like Daryl's relentless hovering these days. The thing was, that only made it worse but she couldn't say that to either of them.

"There is one way you can get that boy outta your shadow."

Carol look was of keen interest. "How?"

"Let him in outta the dark," said Hershel softly. He tapped the table in front of her. "Daryl knows you're carryin' a weight and he wants to help you."

Carol's face clouded over unaware she'd been so transparent. She'd tried so hard to keep her feelings to herself. "He can't," she said painfully, blinking back tears. Carol bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "I don't want to talk about this, Hershel. I just can't."

Hershel nodded. "I know, but at some point you're going to be ready to lay this thing down you've been carryin' around ever since that attack here. I think Daryl kinda needs to be the one you do that with."

Carol's chin came up resolutely. "We all have our burdens to bear, Hershel. I'm not special. We all just have to get on with it."

Hershel sat back in his chair. "I reckon there is a truth to that," he said quietly, "but I also reckon the good book knew what it was talking about when it says we should bear one another's burdens. Daryl's not the only one who needs to realise he's not alone."

Carol looked down at her hands, a sad smile on her face. "But we are all alone, ultimately."

"We're as alone as we choose to be," said Hershel sagely. He hauled himself to his feet. "Well, I'm on cookin' detail tonight. Hope you're in a mood for beans."

Carol smiled. "I'll look forward to it." Hershel patted Carol on her shoulder as he went by and then she was left sitting there, pondering his words. "Hershel said my hand is all good now," she called out without looking up.

Daryl's voice drifted down to her. "I wasn't askin'."

Carol turned around in her seat to look up at Daryl as he sat on the walkway, legs dangling over the edge. "I'm just letting you know so you can clock off Carol watch," she said dryly.

"What are you blatherin' about, woman?" asked Daryl, glancing down at her before going back to cleaning his crossbow."

Carol sighed. "You're a lot of things, Daryl Dixon, subtle isn't one of them. I don't need a body guard."

Daryl snorted. "I got no idea what you're talkin' about." His attention was suddenly very intent on his crossbow. "This is a small camp, we're always goin' be trippin' over each other. It don't mean anythin' more than that."

"Anybody ever tell you you're a terrible liar?"

Daryl didn't miss a beat. "Nobody who lived to tell 'bout it."

Carol shook her head at his stubbornness. "I'm going to go and work on the generator." They'd discovered a portable generator in one of the rooms they'd been clearing out. It didn't work, but then, the thing was so dirty from disuse, there was no way of knowing for sure. A decision had been made to clean it up and see if they could get it working again. It'd be handy to have access to portable power and the smaller generator would make less noise, drawing less unwanted attention. It was a slow, tedious and dirty job, but Carol had found it a welcome escape. Ed had been into the survivalist thing long before all of this had happened and Carol knew her way around a generator. They'd left the generator in a small room off the main boiler room and Carol had taken it upon herself to be the one to set about pulling all the pieces out, cleaning them and re-fitting them.

"You've been doin' that job a lot lately."

Carol arched an eyebrow. "So?"

"So, it's a one person job."

Carol's expression didn't change. They both knew she was working on the generator to avoid being with people, but Carol wasn't about to admit to anything. "You making a point Mr. Disappears for Days by Himself into the Woods?"

Daryl's eyes narrowed as he eyed her back. "You're not me."

Carol knew what he was getting at but wasn't willing to discuss it anymore. She had a fragile hold on her emotions right now, and wasn't going to risk losing that. "I thought you were taking Carl to teach him some tracking?"

"He is." Carl's voice came from behind her and Carol turned around and smiled down at him.

"There you are," said Carol, happy to have the distraction. "Daryl's been waitin' on you."

"I'm not late," protested Carl.

"Carol means she's been waitin' on you," said Daryl dryly. He knew Carol was glad of the interruption.

Carl blinked. "You comin' with us, Carol?"

Carol smiled. "I wouldn't want to get in the way of male bonding."

"It's not bonding," said Carl matter-of-factly. "Daryl is the only one of us who can track. It's only smart for us to learn each other's skill, you know, in case a Walker gets one of us."

Carol's heart tightened at how casual Carl sounded saying that. It wasn't right that a boy of his age was so accepting and even expectant of death. Carol felt the emotions she'd been trying to suppress well up inside of her. Every day she saw a little more of Carl's childhood slip away and the saddest thing was that it was something they couldn't stop, because growing up quickly was most likely going to save his life. She still felt the need to mourn that loss of innocence though, on Carl's behalf, because someone should.

"I ain't dead yet, kid," said Daryl as he stood up.

"I didn't say that. I just said we've got to be smart if we want to survive." He looked at Carol in confusion. "You okay, Carol?"

Carol fixed the pleasant smile on her lips she'd been using all week to keep people's questions at bay. She couldn't even feel her face anymore, it had become such a mask. "Yes, of course, honey, I'm fine." Carol put her hand on the top of Carl's hat-covered head. "You be sure and mind Daryl now, you hear?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Carl politely.

Daryl walked up to where they were standing. "We're goin' to be startin' inside the prison."

Carl scowled. "I thought we'd go outside and practice my trackin'."

Daryl gave him a stern look. "You doin' the teachin' or am I?"

"I'm not a baby," said Carl in annoyance.

"Then quit your whinin'," said Daryl simply. "We do this, we do it my way, no negotiatin'."

Carl made a disappointed humpfing noise, but didn't argue any more.

Carol moved to leave. "You take care of each, okay?"

Daryl fixed her with a determined look. "We can do that, wanna know why?" He didn't let her answer. "Because we're not alone. There are two of us."

Carol shook her head and didn't turn around at his pointed comment, she just continued walking. "Like I said, Dixon, real subtle."

**oooOOOOooo**

"It's time for a break." Daryl had been putting Carl through his paces for the last three hours and the Georgia sun was making its presence felt.

"I can keep goin'," argued Carl.

Daryl looked down at him. "What did I say 'bout arguin' with me?"

"I ain't a kid," said Carl in frustration.

"You best clean your ears out, boy, I don't recall sayin' nothin' bout that." Daryl cast his eyes up at the blazing midday sun. "When you're out in the woods trackin', ain't nobody goin' look after you 'cept you. You get yourself dehydrated and then you end up all turned round and you ain't no use to nobody." He looked back at Carl. "You want that? You want to be a burden on folks with makin' bad calls because you're fixin' to prove somethin' to them?"

Carl's brow furrowed under his over-sized Deputy's hat. "No."

"Then we take a break," said Daryl, his tone brooking no more discussion on the subject. He walked over to the shade of one of the nearby buildings and sat down, back against the red brick. He pulled out his canteen of water and took a deep drink from it. Carl took a seat beside him, sitting cross-legged on the grass. Daryl handed the boy the canteen and drew up his knees, resting his arms on them.

Carl took a deep drink of the water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "How long before we can go outside the prison and do some trackin', Daryl?"

"When I say you're ready."

"When will that be?"

"When I say."

Carl made a frustrated sound. "I wish I was bigger."

Daryl glanced his way. "It'll come soon enough."

Carl wasn't placated. "If I were bigger, I wouldn't need to use my gun so much. I could fight the Walkers better and not waste ammunition, like Carol did last week."

Daryl scowled, the subject was still a raw one for him, particularly as he just knew something was still very wrong with Carol. "The idea is not to be gettin' yourself into those kinds of situation in the first place."

"Yeah, but it happens sometimes, no matter how hard you try and be safe." Carl wrinkled his freckled nose. "If I was bigger and stronger, I could kill more Walkers and keep the group safe."

Daryl side-eyed him. "You're your daddy's boy, that's for certain." He moved his shoulders. "But keepin' people safe ain't always about bein' the strongest, mostly it's about being smart."

"Yeah, but it's even better if you're both," grumbled Carl.

"Don't be in such a hurry to grow up, kid," Daryl warned him. "It ain't like the brochure says."

"But if I was grown up then maybe-" Carl stopped abruptly and looked away, blushing a little.

"Then what?"

Carl squirmed a little where he sat. "Daryl, can I ask you somethin'?" he asked hesitantly.

Daryl shrugged. "Shoot."

Carl turned to face him more, becoming more animated. "You know about women, right?"

Daryl froze. "What?"

"I mean, a guy like you, I bet you've had hundreds of girlfriends," continued on Carl eagerly.

Daryl's insides turned over as unwanted memories of Merle dragging him to whore houses rushed back to him. The embarrassment and humiliation of having his brother proclaiming he was going to make a man of him when he was fifteen was still as raw as if it had happened yesterday. The place had stunk of stale sex and smoke and turned Daryl's stomach. He'd ended up locked in a room with a woman who smelled of cheap perfume and kind of looked like his mom. It had been horrifying, made even more so when she'd tried to take his clothes off. His teenage body was covered in scars of vicious whippings by his father and the marks of the old bastard putting out cigarettes on his back. It was a shame Daryl still carried to this day and he hated people seeing those scars. They were marks of his weakness, all the things his daddy had tried to pound out of him by force. He'd ended up climbing out the window of that place and just running, half-naked down the street. When Merle had caught up with him, Daryl had been forced to endure further degradation as his older brother mercilessly taunted him.

Subsequent attempts to pop his cherry had been just as mortifying and in the end, Daryl had gotten smarter and learned to play along. He watched the swagger of the other men, listened to their talk and learned enough to convincingly fake enough of a sexual past to keep Merle satisfied his baby brother weren't no sissy boy. Since growing into an adult, Daryl hadn't found the concept of sex to be any less confronting and frankly, terrifying. The one good thing about playing the redneck hard ass though, was that no one was looking at you to be their Prince Charming. And then the world had ended and it wasn't much of an issue anymore. Frankly, Daryl was pretty happy to have that off the table. He just couldn't imagine being that vulnerable with a person and being okay about it. Why would you willingly hand someone that kind of power over you?

"Daryl, you listenin' to me?"

Daryl blinked, coming back to the present as Carl looked at him expectantly. "I'm listenin'," he said shortly, not answering the boy's original question. "You got questions about sex, you best ask your daddy 'bout it. I ain't no public service announcement." Daryl wasn't comfortable talking about this kind of thing but he didn't want to show it, so he retreated into his habitual gruffness.

Carl shook his head. "I know how sex works. When Mom-" his voice broke a little, but then he gathered himself, "when Mom got pregnant, Dad told me how they made the baby together." Carl made a repulsed face. "It was kinda gross."

Daryl made his own face, not really wanting to think about that when it came to Rick and Lori either. He idly wondered if the boy knew about Shane's possible part in the mix. Hopefully not. It'd be nice for the kid to have some tiny fragment of innocence to hang onto.

"I was just wonderin' how you know a girl likes you?" he continued on hopefully.

Daryl rubbed his chest, avoiding looking at the boy. "Can't you ask your daddy this stuff?" he hedged.

Carl bent his head and picked up a stick from the ground, fiddling with it. "I don't want to," he said quietly. "He's still real sad about Mom and-" Carl stopped talking and shrugged. "I don't want to," he repeated. "I don't want to make him feel bad." Carl looked up at Daryl again, an expectant look in his eyes. "Well, how do you know a girl likes you?"

Daryl had no idea, so he stalled instead. "We talkin' about Beth here?"

Carl blushed but couldn't help give a big grin. "I think she's real pretty."

Daryl thought about that briefly. "I guess she is."

Carl looked away and then back at Daryl. "I, ah, I really like her."

Daryl nodded, not having missed the doe-eyed looks Carl had been giving the young woman.

"But I don't know if she likes me," finished off Carl in a rush.

"Beth is older than you," pointed out Daryl.

"Only by four years," said Carl quickly. "That ain't nothin'."

"How old are you now?"

"I'm gonna be fourteen next month. Beth is gonna be eighteen in December. That's only four years different."

Daryl grimaced. "Yeah, but it's-" He didn't finish that sentence when he saw the beginning of a crushed look on Carl's face. What did that kind of thing matter these days anyway? Daryl didn't have any kinds of answers about love before everything went to pot, he sure as hell didn't have any now. "Yeah, okay, it's only four years."

Carl looked relieved and continued on enthusiastically. "How do I know if Beth likes me the way I like her?"

Daryl tried to think. "I guess, maybe if you and she do a lot of talkin'. Women love that." He assumed. That seemed to be the case on all of those soap opera thingies.

Carl shook his head. "There are only eight of us, not countin' Axel and Oscar and Judith, cause she's just a baby. Beth kinda has to talk to me."

"I mean, does she go lookin' for you to talk to? Just the two of you."

Carl cocked his head, and looked to be thinking. "Like you do with Carol, you mean?"

Daryl was instantly flustered. "Ah, no, not like me and Carol."

"You two are always talkin' alone."

"No, we're not."

"Yes, you are."

Daryl scowled. "That's different." There was a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach when talking about Carol in regards to this. Daryl didn't like it, the feeling was a confusing one.

Carl made a frustrated noise. "That's what I want to know. How do I know the difference?"

Daryl rubbed the back of his neck. "I dunno, you can just tell, I guess."

"How?"

Daryl stared at him. "We're losin' the light." They weren't, it was the middle of the day. "We should get back to the trackin'."

Carl was relentless, tracking suddenly forgotten. "Okay, how do you make a girl like you then?" He leaned towards Daryl. "Girls like presents, don't they?"

"Ah, yeah, sure."

"I should get Beth a present." Carl's face was the picture of concentrated thought. "What do girls like?" He looked at Daryl. "What did you get your girlfriends?"

As he'd never had a girlfriend, Daryl didn't really have an answer to that. He tried to think about a time he had gotten a woman something and his mind instantly went to the Cherokee rose he'd brought back for Carol. It hadn't been a romantic gesture, more one of kinship and understanding, but he still remembered the smile she'd given him because of it. Daryl had never had anyone smile at him like that before, like they'd been drowning and he'd reached out a hand for them to hold onto. "Flowers." He glanced at Carl and quickly looked away. "Women like flowers," he finished off gruffly.

Carl nodded. "What else?"

Daryl swept his hand out in front of him. "Look around you, boy. There ain't much else to give in this world no more."

Carl pursed his lips. "I guess." His face lit up as a thought occurred. "Do you think Beth would let me kiss her if I got her flowers?" Carl gnawed on his bottom lip. "I don't know how to kiss. I don't want to look dumb." He was intently looking at Daryl. "Is kissin' hard to learn?"

Again, this was out of Daryl's skill set. He remembered that first whore laughing at him and trying to kiss him. Her mouth had tasted of ass and whiskey and Daryl hadn't been able to shove her off him quickly enough. His experience with kissing turned his stomach to think about.

Carl was talking a mile a minute. "Jordan Cross, a kid in my class, says you got to use your tongue to do it proper." Carl hesitated and screwed up his face in thought. "Only, I could never figure out how." He looked at Daryl expectantly. "What are you meant to do with your tongue when you're kissin'?"

Daryl felt his cheeks heat and could only pray that there was enough dirt on his face at the time to disguise it. "There ain't enough minutes in the day to listen to all of your yappin', boy. This ain't no kinda world to be thinkin' about love and all of that crap. You just need to think about survivin', nothin' else."

Carl looked crestfallen at Daryl's rebuttal and immediately climbed to his feet. He avoided looking at Daryl. "I'll go look for more tracks." Carl turned around and started to head off.

Daryl felt a pang of guilt, remembering all the times Merle had made him feel like a fool. Daryl still remembered what it was like to crave the approval of his older brother. Hell, a part of him still did, even though Merle was probably dead by now. "Carl, stop."

Carl stopped walking but didn't turn around.

Daryl ran his hand through his hair distractedly. "Turn round."

Carl reluctantly complied, still not meeting Daryl's gaze.

Daryl tried to give Carl something he'd never been given himself. "You got nothin' to prove to anyone, Carl," he said stiffly. Handing out praise or affirmation was something he wasn't good at, never having received much of either in his life. Daryl stood up and walked over to Carl. "You don't need to be worryin' your head about all this kind of stuff. You don't need to change nothin' bout yourself for folks to like you, and that includes Beth."

"But I want Beth to take me serious," he said, voice wavering a bit. "I don't want her to think I'm a kid." Carl's face clouded over. "I don't want her laughin' at me."

Daryl could relate to that. Being the object of humiliation for his brother's amusement had been pretty much the hallmark of their relationship. As Merle was eleven years older than him, Daryl couldn't help but look up to him but Merle had always seemed to find him wanting in one way or the other. "I guess that's how you know if you're serious 'bout a girl," said Daryl quietly. "You're willin' to take a risk. Ain't no way of controllin' what other folks do. Sometimes you just gotta take a leap of faith and if it ends badly, well, that's just how life is. Ain't no guarantees 'bout nothin'." Daryl didn't know if that was good advice or not. He just wanted Carl to know that he was stupid for feeling the way he did.

Carl's face broke into a smile, obviously thinking it was good advice. "Thanks, Daryl."

"Just you be sweet to that little girl," he said brusquely. Daryl started walking.

"I will," said Carl, hurrying to catch up and match his steps to Daryl's longer ones.

"A word of warnin' though, boy," Daryl glanced over at their cellblock off in the distance, his thoughts turning to Carol, "they don't always make it easy for you."

"Nothin' is easy anymore," said Carl blithely. "I reckon I'd start worryin' if it was."

Daryl threw him a sideways look for that comment.

Out of the mouths of babes...

**A/N****: Okay, so, it occurred to me, in building any kind of vaguely romantic Daryl/Carol relationship, I had to define what I was starting with. As I've said before, Norman Reedus' comments that he plays Daryl as a virgin really intrigue me and I tried to work out how that would come to pass. This chapter is what I came up with. I hope it rang true as a possible back story for the character of Daryl. I'm really trying hard to follow the tone of what the writers have already laid down for Daryl, while filling in some blanks they've left so far about the character. **

**It also occurred to me that in considering any kind of romance for Daryl, there would be a lovely parallel between Daryl and the Beth-besotted Carl. They're both incredibly inexperienced and would share the same fears – of not being taken seriously, of making fools of themselves. I'm intrigued with paralleling their journeys towards love and seeing what comes of it. NR said he couldn't ever see Daryl throwing Carol up against a tree and making out (ala Maggie and Glenn LOL) and I completely agree. It'd be as weird as seeing Carl do that with Beth. . So, if animal lust isn't going to drive forward a love story between them, what will? That's the fun thing to speculate about on the show and what I'm exploring in this fic. What's going to make these two let go of all of the scars of their past and actually look to a future, a future where they'd consider giving that part of themselves to a person? **

**NR has been quoted as saying damaged people attract damaged people and I agree. But, what happens past that attraction? They're in each other's orbits because like recognises like and is drawn to it... but what is that likeness going to do for each other – hold each other back, or set them free? It's an intriguing question and one I'm seeing over and over on TWD. The characters see aspects of themselves in each other and are forced to deal with that in themselves as well as in those around them. There was always a Shane inside of Rick, but when Shane was actually there, Rick could battle against Shane and keep his inner Shane at bay. Now Shane is gone, Rick is struggling with that inner Shane breaking free and taking over. There are lots of checks and balances within the group and that makes for some great TV because they really are that reliant on each other. **

**Sorry, wittered on as usual. Thanks for reading and hope you'll join me in the next chapter. :D **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N****: Thanks for the feedback with the last chapter, guys, I appreciate it so much. :D I'm kind of feeling my way with this fic, so it's good to get that feedback to let me know if I'm in the ballpark here. **

**And GG, just replying to your comment. I tossed up about NR's comments and what he meant by virgin. I definitely agree that he's an emotional virgin and I threw back and forth how far that would translate physically. I could see Daryl having fumbling sexual experiences that didn't amount to anything other than the reinforcement of his low self-esteem. It's yet another interesting/challenging dynamic to strike with this story. It could go a lot of different ways and I'll be interested to see if the show delves into that aspect of Daryl in some way. I know NR will rock those scenes. :D **

**Okay, another big emotional chapter. I liked Daryl's story of the Cherokee rose for Carol, mainly because it was so unexpected that he'd know a story like that and think to use it to help Carol. It added such a dimension to his character. So, I kind of added onto penchant for story telling with this chapter. **

**Thank you as always to all of my readers, favers and commentors – you're all legends. :D **

**Chapter Nine**

"Grief does not change you... it reveals you."

_John Green_

_The Fault in Our Stars_

Two days later, Daryl was walking back into the sleeping quarters, a string of dead squirrels hanging over his shoulder. He'd been out hunting all afternoon and then decided to do a perimeter check before coming back in. It had to be about nine o'clock or so by now. Daryl glanced around at the group, which just consisted of Beth, Glenn, Carl and Maggie, who were cleaning up from their evening meal.

Beth smiled at him. "Would you like something to eat, Daryl?"

He gave a short shake of his head. "Nah, I ate already." Daryl looked around. "Where's Carol?"

Glenn looked up from where he was sorting out supplies. "She's doing a load of washing."

Daryl just stared at him. "It's the middle of the night." Everyone looked at him blankly. He made an impatient noise. "Didn't that strike any of y'all as kinda weird?"

Glenn straightened up and looked Daryl over. "Says the guy wearing a squirrel necklace."

Daryl pulled off his string of squirrels and threw them down on the ground and threw him an annoyed look. "We shouldn't be goin' off by ourselves at night. It ain't safe."

"She's in the courtyard," piped up Maggie. "It's secure."

"It wasn't last week," bit out Daryl, turning on his heel and already marching off.

"Carol said she just wanted some quiet time," Maggie called out after him.

"She can have her damn quiet time in here," he threw back over his shoulder at them as he headed out of the cellblock. Daryl stalked off to find Carol. Her tendency to go off on her own was getting worse, not better. She was withdrawing into herself, rarely talking unless spoken to these days. It was like she was fading away in front of him and Daryl couldn't seem to do a damn thing about it. Whenever he'd looked at Carol, he'd always been able to see that light shining in her eyes, be able to see what was going on inside of her. But now that light was growing dimmer every day. He walked out into the courtyard and saw Carol sitting on a stool, scrubbing clothes in a tub of water, a lamp by her feet. Daryl's lips thinned. "What do you think you're doin'?"

Carol gave him the briefest of glances. "Washing."

"It's the middle of the night."

She shrugged and continued with the washing.

Daryl stared at her with frustration, trying to work out how to reach her. He paced up and down in front of her a couple times, finally coming to a halt directly in front of her. "You remember what you said to me when I was tryin' to pull away from the group after we found Sophia?" he asked abruptly.

Carol just kept working away, not looking at him. "I said a lot of things."

"You said 'don't do this'." A muscle in Daryl's jaw ticked as he kept his eyes steadfastly trained on Carol, even as she studiously refused to look at him. "Don't do this," he implored her, cursing the amount of emotion he heard in his own voice.

Carol briefly stopped scrubbing the clothes and then continued again. "I'm not doing anything," she said quietly.

A muscle ticked in his cheek. "Anybody ever tell you you're a terrible liar, woman?"

"Nobody who lived to tell about it." Carol wrung out the last shirt and put it in the basket of wet clothes beside her. She stood up and tipped out the bucket of dirty water and then picked it up.

Daryl hadn't taken his eyes off her. He watched Carol carry the bucket over to the tap to get fresh water. "Tell me what's wrong," Daryl demanded, giving up on any kind of subtlety. "You're isolatin' yourself. That ain't like you."

Carol was trying to turn on the large valve which would let water flow to the tap. It was a lever on the wall, positioned just above her head. She was struggling to move the rusted, metal lever. "Maybe that's a good thing," she said bitterly.

Daryl scowled. "What does that mean?"

Carol put both hands on the lever, straining to get the thing to move. "Just leave it be, Daryl."

"No. You're going to tell me what's going on with you and I ain't leavin' till you do."

Carol sent him an irritated look as she continued to wrestle with the unyielding lever. "This is none of your business," she snapped at him.

"You are my business," he snapped back without thinking. Daryl scowled, not meaning that to sound quite as territorial as it came out. He made a frustrated sound. "I mean I care that you're unhappy."

Carol was refusing to look at him, concentrating on the lever, both hands gripping it now. "Look around you, Daryl," she countered tightly. "We're all unhappy."

He took a step towards her. "I ain't," he said urgently and then moved his shoulders. "I mean, not all the time, not when-" Daryl stopped abruptly, not wanting to finish his sentence. He had been about to say not when he was with her. Carol had given him acceptance and a purpose and it was the first time in his life he'd ever known either of those things. She'd drawn him into the group which had only reinforced those feelings for him. He wasn't going to stand by and watch her remove herself from those same feelings of being needed and importance. "This all started after what happened with Judith." Daryl moved to help her with the lever, reaching over the top of her while trying to figure this all out. He put his hand on the lever, going to pull it down.

"I can do it," she ground out, trying to elbow him out of the way.

Daryl ignored her attempts to push him away. "I know it was scary as hell, but you kicked ass, Carol, you saved that little girl. You got a right to be real proud of yourself." He pulled down on the lever and it gave way, water ran out of the tap below. "I'm real proud of you."

"I said I could do it!" Carol shouted. She shoved at his chest and Daryl was forced to take a step back, not having expected such a violent shove from her. Carol suddenly erupted all over him. "Why the hell can't you just leave well enough alone!" she raged at him. "I don't need no ignorant red neck trailin' around after me like a lost puppy!" Carol yelled. She shoved him again, this time with even more force.

Daryl was shocked by the vehemence of the usually soft-spoken Carol's words and actions. "Calm down," he ordered her.

Carol was now raining down blows on his chest, totally losing all semblance of control. "Don't tell me to calm down!" she spat at him as she attacked. "You wanted this, you wanted the real Carol, well, here she is!"

Daryl grabbed for Carol's wrists to protect himself from her attack but she wasn't done yet. She writhed against him, trying to get free, kicking and scratching. Daryl was forced to use all of his strength to subdue her, fearful she'd end up really hurting herself if she didn't calm down. He violently wrestled with Carol until his greater strength finally wore her down. Daryl was behind Carol now, his arms wrapped around her and still holding onto her wrists, crossing them in front of her. Her fight was finally giving out as his back hit the wall behind him and he slid down the wall, taking her with him. They lay on the ground, both of them panting noisily from their exertions. The tap was still running beside them and Daryl kicked out with his foot and turned it off.

"You're hurting me," Carol whispered, still trying to catch her breath, her rage suddenly gone.

Daryl immediately loosened his grip on her arms, but didn't let her go. They lay like that, not moving for a long time. He didn't know what had just happened, but he knew that Carol needed him right now. They could stay here all night and he wouldn't care.

"I used to have a job."

Carol's out of the blue comment sounded almost emotionless. Daryl didn't say anything, just held onto her and let her speak. Carol was collapsed back against him now, no more strength left in her body.

"It was only ten hours a week, at a local library," she continued on dully. "Ed hated me working. He said it made him look bad and he'd do everything he could to make me give it up." Carol's chin came up. "But I took the beatings because for those ten hours a week, I could finally breathe. It was my lifeline. It was somewhere I was just Carol and not Ed's property." Her head seemed too heavy to hold up all of a sudden and Carol let it fall back so that her cheek was against his. She stared unseeingly at a spot on the ground in front of them, completely limp in his arms. "I came home late one day from one of my shifts and found Ed had picked already picked Sophia up after school." Carol took an unsteady breath. "She was colouring in and Ed was sitting on the sofa, just watching her with this look in his eyes."

Daryl felt an uncontrolled shudder run through Carol's body and instinctively held her closer. It turned his stomach to think of a man, especially her own daddy, looking at Sophia that way. His jaw hardened but he didn't speak, able to feel how difficult this was for Carol to talk about.

"He saw me watching him and he looked over at me with this smug smile on his face, like he was daring me to do somethin' about it." Carol's voice started to shake. "The next day, as soon as Ed had left for work, I packed a suitcase each for me and Sophia. I got in my car and drove to her school and I was going to go inside and get her and just run and never look back." She didn't talk for a long moment and when she did, the pain in Carol's voice tore through Daryl like a knife. "I sat there for six hours in that car outside Sophia's school, tryin' to work up the courage to go inside. I sat there, all day, and I just couldn't move. I was still sitting there still when Sophia came out from school and I just drove us home, back to that life, back to him." Her voice hardened. "Ed came home that night and he had this look in his eye when he looked at me, like he knew what I'd tried to do and was laughin' at me because he knew I was too weak to ever leave him." Carol sounded defeated now. "I quit my job the next day and never left the two of them alone again after that. It wasn't enough, but it's all I had to give."

In that moment Daryl was glad Ed had died the way he had. The bastard had deserved even worse but if Carol was right and there was a heaven, then Daryl sure did hope there was a hell and Ed Peletier was burning in it right now.

"I asked you if I was still a mother," Carol continued on raggedly, her voice filling with self-loathing. "I was never a mother. I failed Sophia her entire life. I stayed with Ed even though I knew he was a danger to her and then you said it yourself, if I'd just kept an eye on Sophia, she'd have never run off into the woods for those Walkers to get her."

Daryl grimaced. "Don't," he pleaded with her. "I didn't mean what I said, I was angry."

"But it was true," sobbed Carol. "I didn't have it in me to protect my own child and Sophia paid with her life for that. When those Walkers came for me and Judith I just fought, I fought so hard and I was never going to stop. I could do that for someone else's baby, but I couldn't do it for my own." Daryl could feel Carol's hot tears dripping from her face onto the backs of his hands as he held onto her and refused to let go. "Sophia deserved so much-much better than me." Carol could barely get her words out.

"Sophia loved you and you loved her," said Daryl earnestly. "The rest don't matter."

"Of course it matters," said Carol bitterly. "My baby didn't deserve something like that to happen to her."

"And you do?" asked Daryl angrily. "Is that what you're sayin'? Judith would be dead if it weren't for you."

"Don't you see," said Carol in anguish, "that makes it worse. Why couldn't I have done that for my own child? Why was I so weak when Sophia needed me so much? I could have saved her, both from her daddy and those Walkers but I didn't."

Finally Daryl knew what had been eating Carol up inside this last week and a half. "I don't know much," he said quietly, "but I do know that a drownin' person ain't no good to another drownin' person." Daryl moved so his lips were at Carol's ear, desperate for her to hear what he had to say. "You did the best you could do Sophia with all that you had in you. That's all any of us can do."

"But I didn't do everything for Sophia," protested Carol, her voice cracking. "What happened with Judith proves that."

Daryl's closed his eyes, trying to think of a way to get Carol to stop thinking this way. Regret was a wild animal which could eat you alive if you let it and he wasn't willing for Carol to be its latest victim. "I have one good memory of the old son of a bitch who called himself my daddy," he said unevenly. "He took me fishing in this kinda quarry that was real hard to get to, a good day and a half trekking through thick woods. I reckon I was about eight or so. Merle was in juvey somewhere, so it was just me and him. We slept out under the stars that night and the old bastard got to drinkin'. I figured he'd turn sooner or later and I'd end up catchin' a couple of beatings like usual."

When he didn't immediately continue, Carol prompted him. "Did he beat you?" she asked hesitantly.

Daryl gave a humourless laugh. "No, for once in his life, my daddy wasn't in the mood to slap me round. He took me down to the water's edge where all the rock faces of the quarry kinda hung over the top of you. There was this corridor in the rocks which made this narrow passageway. Anyways, the old man suddenly starts singin' a few lines from an old Roy Orbison song. It's okay, nothin' special but then he stops singin' and this echo comes back offa those rocks and it sounded amazin', like he was some kind of professional singer or somethin'." Carol had stilled in his arms and he knew he had her attention, so Daryl continued his story. "So, the old man looks at me, all proud like and said that voice was always in him, it just needed to bounce offa few hard rocks to get to how it was always supposed to be. He told me it was all that bouncin' around on the rocks which made his singin' how it was meant to be all along. He got me to sing along with him for the rest of the night. It was the only time in my life I felt like he didn't hate me." Daryl paused, momentarily lost in the past. "I ain't thought about that night for a long time."

"That's a real nice story 'bout your daddy," she said softly.

"It's the only one I got," he said flatly. "The only other good thing he ever did for me was gettin' his head blown off in a bar fight." Daryl's fingers moved a little restlessly over Carol's arms. "I ain't ever told anybody that story before."

Carol turned her face towards him a little more, their cheeks still touching. "You think that is how it really is? Do you think we don't know who we really are until we've been pounded around on the rocks some?"

"I know that what happened to Sophia wasn't your fault. This world went mad and ain't one of us was prepared for it. I know Judith would be buried out in that field along with T-Dog and her mamma if it weren't for you. Losin' Sophia made you strong enough to save Judith. I don't know if that is any kind of comfort to you but-"

"It is," she interrupted quietly. "It is." Carol sounded calmer all of a sudden. She drew in a ragged breath. "I miss her so much, Daryl," she confessed. "Sometimes my arms just ache so bad to hold my little girl again, I can't even find the words."

Daryl felt tears sting his eyes and he blinked them back. "I'd do anything to give Sophia back to you," he said gruffly.

"I know," she sighed, "but there is nothin' either one of us can do now."

"We can remember her," Daryl offered up.

For the first time Carol smiled. "Yes," she said huskily, "we can remember her." Carol hesitated. "You want to hear a story about Sophia's third birthday party? I'm warning you though, it's got fairies in it."

Daryl's lips curved up in little smile. "I'm a big ass fairy fan. Can't get enough of 'em."

Carol actually gave a little laugh. "You seem the type." She settled more comfortably against him and started to tell the story of Sophia's fairy-themed third birthday party. Daryl had never had a birthday party so it was actually somewhat of an education for him. But mostly he was just glad to listen to Carol's voice and know that he had her back with him. It was like he could breathe again...

**oooOOOOooo**

Maggie and Glenn peaked out from the doorway into the courtyard and saw Carol lying in Daryl's arms across the way. They were sitting on the ground, Daryl with his back against the wall. The pair was talking to one another in low voices, cheeks resting against each other. Maggie couldn't help but take note of the oddly intimate scene, particularly considering Daryl was not big on the physical contact, unless he was killing something, of course.

"And then there's that," said Glenn uncertainly, keeping his voice down so as not to disturb them.

Maggie just smiled. "I think they look cute together." She glanced over at Glenn. "Don't you think they look cute together?"

Glenn made a face. "I've never really put the words 'Daryl' and 'cute' in the same sentence before. Unless it was 'wouldn't it be cute if Daryl put down that crossbow and didn't shoot me in the face'."

Maggie gave a little snort. "Since when has Daryl ever done that to you?"

"There was some Merle-related unpleasantness back in the day," said Glenn unhappily. "Things were said, lives were threatened. It was pretty harsh."

"Merle is Daryl's big brother, isn't he?" The others had been kind of vague about the guy.

"If there is a God, then he's Daryl's _dead_ big brother," said Glenn flatly.

"Was he really that bad?"

"Think Hitler without the charm."

"Not a fan, huh?"

"Let's just say we kept the right Dixon brother."

Maggie looked back at the couple across the courtyard. "Carol definitely seems to think so."

"Don't," said Glenn with a pained expression.

"What's wrong with the thought of Carol and Daryl maybe having a little romance?"

Glenn looked like he was floundering. "Well, ah, for one thing, their names rhyme."

Maggie arched an eyebrow. "That's your key requirement for a relationship? Your names can't rhyme?"

"Okay, it's just weird then."

"Why?"

"Because it's Carol... and it's Daryl."

Maggie found his discomfort amusing. "I think they kinda match each other."

Glenn blinked. "In what way?"

Maggie gave a little shrug. "I don't know, they both seemed to have such sad lives. I think it was a relief when they found each other. Like is always drawn to like after all."

"We're nothing alike," Glenn pointed out.

Maggie smiled knowingly. "Well, opposites attract too." She put her hands on his chest lovingly. "But don't worry, I reckon if anythin' ever happens between those two, they'll be the last to know."

"Kinda like I was with us?" asked Glenn wryly.

Maggie leaned in closer. "Kinda like that," she agreed in amusement, moving in for a kiss. Whatever happened between Daryl and Carol, she just hoped they'd find some happiness like her and Glenn.

Everyone deserved that, particularly now.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N****: Sorry this chapter took so long, folks. And sorry it's not a more interesting chapter to come back to. .**

**I've actually been struggling with these next couple of chapters, trying to get things set up properly. It turned out to be tricker than I thought. You'll probably read the next couple of chapters and wonder what my problem was, but trust me, I had issues. LOL **

**So, yeah, I'm not that happy with this chapter, but it's a set up for the next, so I'm just going to build a bridge and get over it, as Carol would say. ;) **

**Thank you again to everyone who is sticking with this story and I'm loving reading folks thoughts on TWD, Carly and this story. Such fun! :D **

**Okay, next chapter shouldn't be too far away, hopefully. We'll see what that muse can pull together, eh? **

**See you soon...**

**Chapter Ten**

Breakfast was finished and everyone was together, deciding on what was to be done today.

Rick glanced over at Glenn. "Glenn, you want to take Maggie for a run into town? We're getting low on a few essentials. Looks like we're going to have to raid houses again."

"You should take Carol," said Maggie with a smile. "She's got the touch with findin' things lately."

"I'm happy to go," said Carol easily as she picked up a stack of dirty dishes. After her melt down with Daryl yesterday, she felt like a huge weight had been taken off her shoulders. Everything felt brighter today and all the tasks in front of them, infinitely more possible.

Maggie frowned as she noticed the marks on Carol's arms. "What happened to your arms, Carol?" she asked in concern, nodding at the bruises on Carol's arms in the shape of clear finger prints.

Carol looked down at her arms in surprise. "Oh." She glanced up and exchanged a look with the suddenly frowning Daryl. Carol hadn't noticed the bruises before then from where Daryl had held onto her so tightly during her breakdown. People rarely bothered mentioning their bumps and bruises these days. You were always covered in them, so there didn't seem much point to going on about it. It just was what it was. Carol sent Maggie a calm look. "I fell and Daryl caught me," she said simply.

"It must have been a bad fall," noted Rick in concern, eyeing her bruises as well.

Carol held Rick's gaze steadily, conscious of Daryl's intent eyes on her. "It was, but Daryl has good reflexes." She glanced over at Daryl and gave a little smile and saw him relax a little.

"That's good to know in the guy who sleeps with a crossbow," deadpanned Glenn.

"Okay, Glenn and Carol, you can head on out to town today, Oscar, you can come with me and-"

"Can I go with Glenn and Carol?" interrupted Carl.

"Into town?" his father queried.

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Carl looked suddenly embarrassed as all eyes were on him. "I, ah, I need some things."

"Well, just give the list to Glenn and he'll get them for you."

"No!" said Carl sharply and then looked even more embarrassed as he glanced over at Beth who was stacking away the leftover food. "I have to go myself. I don't know what I want yet."

Rick looked confused. "If you don't know what you want, then how do you know you want it?"

Carol had caught the little look Carl had given Beth and had an idea what this was about. She put a hand on Rick's arm. "It's fine, Rick. I'm sure Carl will be a big help." She looked over at Glenn. "You don't mind, do you?"

Glenn put his cap on. "Nope, I take all comers." He paused and then made a face. "I don't mean that in a sexual way."

Hershel's response was a wry one. "We assumed as much, son."

Rick gave up. "Okay, you can go. You just be sure to mind Carol and Glenn though, you hear?"

Carl grinned. "I will."

"I'm comin' too," announced Daryl. He stood up from the stairs he'd been sitting on. "I need some things for my bow. I'll check out the gun shop, hopefully there will still be that kind of thing left."

"I can check for you," offered Glenn.

Daryl arched an eyebrow at him. "You know the kind of wax I need, you know what a dissipater pad looks like?"

Glenn pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. "A pad that dissipates?

"I'm comin'," said Daryl dryly.

"Can I come too?" asked Axel eagerly, obviously feeling there was safety in numbers with so many going to town now.

"No," said everyone at once.

Axel frowned. "Do you all get together and have meetings when I'm not around so you can do that?" he asked petulantly.

"Don't flatter yourself, dumb ass," Daryl advised him.

"I could help," argued Axel.

"How, by maimin' one of us?" threw back Daryl. "Thanks, but we all like the use of both of our hands."

"It was an accident," protested Axel for what felt like the hundredth time. "Anyways, I'm not the one bruising Carol all over."

Carol had only been half-listening to Daryl and Axel's back and forth but she immediately looked over to Daryl at Axel's latest ill-thought out comments. There was a tangible increase in tension in the room as Daryl's eyes narrowed menacingly, his jaw hardening.

Axel finally realised his mistake. "Don't hit me," he squeaked at Daryl, backing up quickly.

Glenn shook his head. "If you have options with Daryl, I'd go with the hitting, dude," he suggested. "It's kinda way down on the lists of potentially horrible things Daryl could do to you."

Axel looked around at the others for support, but they were all regarding him with varying degrees of annoyance. "Y'all are not good people," grumbled Axel.

Carol shook her head and gave a little smile. Say what you would about Axel, he did entertain, even if it was mostly unintentional.

"You're free to leave any time you like," bit out Daryl, slinging his crossbow over his shoulder with a little too much force.

Axel didn't respond, just pouted.

Rick nodded at him, changing the subject. "Axel, you and Oscar will be with me today. We need to get started on clearin' out more of the north wing of the prison."

"Not more body burnin'," said Axel despondently, seeming to have not learned his lesson yet.

"You can always bury them," offered up Rick coolly.

"We're fine with burning," said Oscar quickly, clearly not relishing that idea.

"Happy to hear it," drawled Rick.

The rest of the daily tasks were divided up and an hour later, Daryl, Carol, Carl and Glenn were in town. Carol glanced out the window of the jewellery shop she was in with Carl and saw Daryl and Glenn across the road, walking into the gun shop. She turned her attention back to Carl, who was staring intently at a glass display box. The story had been half-heartedly looted, but it mustn't have taken folks long to work out that jewellery wasn't a priority after a zombie apocalypse. If you couldn't eat it or kill with it, the importance of items declined rapidly. Carol kept her gun handy as she walked over to the boy and looked over his shoulder at the bracelet he was holding. "That's real pretty," she noted, taking in the white gold bracelet with inlays of some kind of blue gemstone. Carol didn't know enough about jewellery to know if she was looking at sapphires but regardless, it was very lovely.

Carl turned it over in his hand. "The stones are the same colour as-" he trailed off and avoided looking at Carol.

Carol lips curved in a small smile. "As Beth's eyes?" she offered up.

Carl sent her a sheepish look. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"I'm sure she'll love it and even more so because it came from you," said Carol sincerely. She paused, choosing her words carefully. "Carl, you know that Beth cares for you, don't you?"

Carl grinned, looking very happy to hear that.

Carol continued on gently. "But you also know that there are all kinds of caring in this world, right?"

Carl's smile slipped a little. "What you sayin', Carol?"

"I'm sayin' that Beth can care for you very much, but not want it to go any further," she offered up. Carol didn't want to destroy Carl's dreams, but she didn't want to see him set himself up for a fall either. "It doesn't mean her feelings for you aren't real and special, just that they're not romantic ones. Sometimes having a best friend is better than having a girlfriend or boyfriend."

Carl regarded her steadily, clearly processing her words of caution. "But being both would be the best thing of all, wouldn't it?"

Carol pulled a little face, knowing that was seldom how things worked out between men and women. "Well, yes, of course, but that's not always that easy. Isn't it better to just stay friends and not risk what you already have?"

Carl looked down at the bracelet in his hands, his jaw hardening a little and it put Carol in mind of his daddy right then. "You know, I spent so long just bein' afraid when all this started," said Carl quietly. "I was just scared, all the time. I hated it because I kind of just froze inside, like I was sleepin' and couldn't wake up from a bad dream." He squared his shoulders. "But then, just before we had to leave the farm, my dad told me no more kid's stuff." Carl looked up at Carol. "I'm not scared anymore. I mean, I get frightened, but that fear doesn't have me stuck on the spot, I can move through it and do what has to be done." His young face clouded over. "Like I had to with my Mom," he said unevenly, the pain still evident in his voice.

Carol put a compassionate hand on his shoulder. "Carl," she said softly, letting him know she understood that kind of loss.

Carl cleared his throat and kept talking. "I ain't afraid of being afraid anymore. I really like Beth and I want more than to be friends. I don't know what she'll say to that but if I don't ever try, I'll never know." Carl held her gaze with a serious look. "I reckon I'd rather know than wonder for the rest of my life."

Carol couldn't help but be amazed by the young boy's resolve. The fearlessness of youth. She tried to remember if she'd ever been that brave with her feelings. Nothing was coming to her. Ed had been an escape from an unhappy family situation but then he'd turned out to be no escape at all. She supposed the last time she remembered being hopeful about love was after that first meeting with Ed, when he'd been so kind and attentive. It had died the day when Ed hit her a month or so later. Carol had married him anyways, trained to not really expect too much else from life. Her mother had taught her that whatever went wrong, it was Carol's fault and up to her to fix it. It was only now Ed was gone Carol really understood there had been no fixing Ed. Carol was conditioned to not take chances, to not hope or dream for anything. To see someone like Carl fly in the face of all odds with his heart like this really affected Carol. She gave a wobbly smile. "You're something else, Carl Grimes."

Carl looked a little nonplussed by that. "Ah, thanks."

"Come on, we'll find you a box for the bracelet and then we really need to keep on moving."

"Okay," said Carl, starting to look around for a jewellery box for his chosen gift while Carol was left to contemplate to herself, in light of their unexpectedly thought-provoking conversation.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl turned to look at Carol. "You ready?" The day was starting to get away from them and this was the third street the four of them had searched through. The stores in the town centre were picked clean these days, so they'd decided to do as Carol had done the day she'd found all those baby supplies, and widen their search areas. He glanced down the street in time to see Carl and Glenn disappear inside a house. So far they'd only recovered a couple of items from all of their hard work and Daryl didn't want to hang around in town much longer. The later in the day it got, the more active the Walkers became.

Carol nodded. "Born that way." Her lips twitched. "As Lady Gaga would say."

"Who?"

"Am I really talking to the only person in the world who doesn't know who Lady Gaga is?" asked Carol in amusement. She paused and looked thoughtful. "I suppose she's dead now, especially if she was wearing that meat outfit during the outbreak."

Daryl was frowning at her, Carol's words not making any kind of sense to him. "You gone and lost your mind, woman?"

"You really don't know who she is, do you?" asked Carol in disbelief.

"I don't wanna know," he said gruffly. "Come on." Daryl kept the stock of his crossbow hard against his shoulder as he and Carol entered the house together. The usual smell of stale, rotting air assailed them as they walked in. A few steps into the house revealed barely any furniture however. The house almost looked like it had belonged to some kind of recluse before all of the troubles had started. There were heavy bars on the windows and the door they'd just entered through sported large padlocks. The windows, as well being barred, were also boarded up. A sign the occupants had tried to make a stand perhaps. The rotting corpse they had to step over in the hallway suggested it hadn't ended well. Daryl jerked his head up towards the stairs to their right, silently indicating he'd take the top floor. Carol nodded, her gun drawn as she moved to check the ground floor.

Daryl crept up the stairs, his eyes on the landing above him. The house seemed to be in a real state of disrepair. Even the steps he was walking on groaned warningly at him, threatening to break beneath him if Daryl didn't tread lightly. There were holes in the wall exposing the infrastructure underneath along with the creepy crawlies which had taken up residence within. Daryl moved onto the first floor, muscles tensed as he scanned the dimly lit upper corridor. Glancing down through the railings, he saw Carol disappear into another room. Daryl turned his attention back to the job at hand. He edged forward, hand reaching out to the first door and pushed it open. The door swung open with a tortured creak and Daryl was confronted with another dark room. The smell that assaulted his nostrils told him that it wasn't an empty one. Daryl's eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom in time to see the room was filled with Walkers, at least a dozen of them. They all turned in eerie unison to look at him. He quickly went to pull the door shut, but one Walker was too close and he stuck his arm in the door, preventing Daryl from closing it properly. Daryl took a quick step back and his heavier footstep caused the floorboard underneath his foot to crack. The breaking board threw Daryl off balance and he stumbled backwards, throwing his arms up in attempt to regain his balance. Unfortunately his crossbow connected with the railing of the landing and was torn out of Daryl's hand and then fell through the railings to the ground floor below. "Fuck!" he hissed in annoyance at his unusual clumsiness.

Daryl scrambled to his feet as the roomful of Walkers spilled out onto the landing. He grabbed his knife and stabbed the closest one up through the bottom of his chin. The Walker collapsed at his feet but the others kept on coming. Daryl turned around and bolted down the stairs. "Carol!" he called out. "We gotta get outta here!" The Walkers were hot on his heels as Daryl got to the bottom of the stairs and went to retrieve his crossbow. However, Walkers had come in through the front door and were now crowding into the hallway, effectively cutting Daryl off from his weapon of choice. "Fuck!" he said again in ire. A hand was suddenly on the back of his pants and Daryl tensed, spinning around with his knife drawn above his head.

Carol raised her hand in front of herself protectively. "It's me!" Daryl immediately dropped his arm. Carol grabbed it and pulled on it. "This way," she said urgently.

Daryl ran with her back to the other side of the house and into the kitchen, the sound of the Walker's moans just behind them. He looked around and saw the door was locked with more giant padlocks and the windows again were barred and boarded up. "Shit, no way out!"

Carol had run over to the corner of the room and was bent over. "I just found this," she said, throwing back a rotting mat to reveal a trapdoor in the floor. The first of the Walkers were in the room now and Daryl took them both down with his knife, kicking a third, giant, lumbering Walker back out the door. "Quick!" he urged her. "Get in."

Carol yanked open the hatch door and jumped down as the large Walker regained his footing and charged at Daryl again. The guy was well over six feet tall and looked like he'd lived in a gym when he'd been alive. Daryl put himself in front of the trapdoor opening and lunged up at the man, driving his knife into the man's skull. The blade of his knife caught on something in the Walker's head and Daryl couldn't pull his knife back out. The other Walkers were in the room and there was no time. Daryl abandoned trying to retrieve his knife and whirled around, jumping down into the hatch just as Carol called out to him, her voice high and stressed.

"No, wait, don't!"

But it was too late, Daryl had already jumped down into the underground passage and slammed the door down on both of them, keeping the Walkers out, but sealing them into their new fate...


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N****: Okay, so this was an uber hard chapter to write, the hardest so far to be honest, because it has such a large tonal change to the writing between Carol and Daryl. I'm trying to walk this line in their relationship, while also trying to advance it. Advancing it in an emotionally intimate way is easy, because there is so much going on with the characters in their back stories. Advancing it in any kind of romantic sense is incredibly hard, because I don't see their eyes suddenly meeting across a crowded room and them being all hearts and flowers with each other. So, the big problem is how to I introduce the possibility of more in their relationship, without falling too far into a Sweet Valley High situation? This chapter is my attempt at that. In my head I saw it working, but I don't know if I've managed to translate it properly onto the page. It really is this incredibly delicate balance to try and maintain. How do you get these two characters who are predisposed not to take any kind of emotional, let alone romantic risks, to start considering even the idea of more from one another? **

**Like I said, this was a tricky chapter to write and I guess it's up to you guys to let me know if you think I've managed it, or jumped the shark completely with the dynamic between them. . These kinds of chapters are always nerve-wracking to me, because I can never guess what people's responses are going to be to it.**

**Also, just a little heads up for my younger readers – this chapter has some adult overtones to it. There is nothing overly graphic to it, but 'adult situations' does apply here. Just a warning. :)**

**Oh well, it's done now, so all I can do is let you read on and you all can make up your own minds while I move onto the next chapter. Wish me luck... **

**Chapter Eleven**

Daryl almost jumped down onto Carol's head as he slammed the trapdoor behind him. A loud thump came from above them, as the Walker Daryl had just killed hit the ground. Daryl struggled to work out his new environment. "Move down," he ordered Carol fiercely as they ended up tangled around each other. The ceiling was only a couple of feet above him and Daryl was caught up trying to find some room to straighten up. He ended up half lying over the top of Carol as they were scrunched up in the small space.

"I can't," said Carol unsteadily, but keeping her voice down. "That's what I was trying to tell you. This isn't as big as I thought it would be." They were crammed into a space no more than a few feet wide in any direction. "I thought it'd lead to a root cellar or something, but instead it seems like some kind of crawl space."

Daryl put his hand over Carol's mouth and a finger to his lips with his free hand as he heard more Walkers enter the kitchen. The floorboards around them creaked and dust was dislodged onto them as the kitchen filled up with Walkers looking for their next meal. Tense minutes ticked by, neither one of them daring hardly to breathe as the Walkers wandered aimlessly around, undoubtedly being able to smell them, but unable to find their quarry. Carol grabbed at his wrist and pulled his hand from her mouth, mouthing the words 'can't breathe'. She looked wide-eyed and was starting to shake. Daryl moved a little and Carol winced as he unintentionally kneed her in the stomach. He grimaced and tried to get them more room. Daryl reached out and felt around the walls of their hidey hole. Three of them were all wooden, but his hand then connected with something metal. He grunted quietly as he tried to move to see what it was. Daryl's eyes went wide as he realised he was looking at cans of food, all in cardboard trays and stacked to the ceiling. The owner of the house must have been secreting stores of canned food down here and that was what was filling up the limited space.

Seeing as Daryl had no idea how long they would be forced to be down there, he set about making more room for them. He pointed at the cans to Carol who nodded, seeing them. Daryl's idea was that if he could push them further down into the crawl space, then they'd have more room. With the Walkers overhead, Daryl moved Carol so she was squashed up against the side of the space, leaving him with just enough room to swing around and put his feet against the far wall. Bracing his back against the pallets of cans, Daryl pushed as hard as he could, attempting to straighten his legs and move the trays of cans further down. He grunted with his exertions as Carol cast concerned looks up at the ceiling, worried the Walkers might hear him. Daryl was just realising that there must be more stacks of cans back there then he first thought, or no more space to fill, when a rotten board under his foot gave way and his foot slipped through the board. He gritted his teeth at the pain around his ankle, but didn't cry out. The attempt to get them more space was useless though and he and Carol were forced to wait out the Walkers in their hot, dark prison. It was hard to tell how much time passed in the end, but eventually the last of the Walkers seemed to have wandered off, the floor no longer creaking above them.

Carol let out an unsteady breath, eyes on the ceiling. "I think they're gone," she whispered.

"We should wait a little longer," said Daryl, very aware all they had to protect themselves was Carol's gun and that was only going to bring more of them running. It didn't have enough bullets for all of those things. Instead, Daryl focused on freeing his foot. He wiggled it around and tried to pull his foot out from the broken board but the space was so limited, he was just as likely to snap his ankle off. "Fuck," he growled in annoyance.

"What's wrong?" whispered Carol, squashed in beside him.

"Foot's stuck," he grunted.

"Can't you just pull it out?"

"If I could do that, it wouldn't be stuck, now would it?" he shot back at her, keeping his voice low.

"We have to get out of here," said Carol. Her tone was nervous as she fidgeted beside him.

"Give me a minute here," said Daryl distractedly, still trying on working his foot free. Damn it, that thing was really wedged in there.

"We have to get out of here." Carol's voice had risen in pitch now.

"I heard ya the first time." Daryl twisted his foot this way and that, but he just couldn't bend it the right way to get it free. Suddenly Carol was scrambling on top of him, straddling him. "What the hell?!" he yelled. "What are you doin'?"

"I've got to get out of here!" There was real panic in Carol's voice now as she raised her hands up and started to push frantically on the trap door above them.

Suddenly Daryl remembered Jenner asking Carol if she was claustrophobic and her response. "You ain't got that claustrophobia thing happenin', have you? This ain't the time and place."

Carol briefly stopped in her struggles to get the hatch open and glared down at him in the gloom. "We're in a small, dark space," she hissed at him. "This kinda feels like the perfect time to have it!" She resumed with her desperate struggles to open the hatch above them.

"There might still be Walkers out there," Daryl hissed back, trying to caution her.

"Don't care," she said desperately. "I need to get out."

Carol was writhing around on top of him in a frenzied attempt to get enough leverage to lift the wooden trap door. She could manage to move it a little, but that huge Walker must have fallen directly on top of the hatch, so, with each attempt, she could only lift it a crack. Because of how he was trapped with his foot, Daryl couldn't move to help Carol as he wasn't able to reach up high enough to even touch the ceiling. Carol was working up a sweat and starting to breathe heavily from her exertions, clearly desperate to get out of the small, confined space. Daryl, meanwhile, was having issues of his own. Carol squirming around on top of him like this was having an unexpected affect on certain parts of his body. Much to Daryl's horror, it appeared his body was quite enjoying the feeling of Carol writhing away on top of him and was responding of its own accord. Daryl tried to block out how good it felt to have Carol's body on top of him like this but that was easier said than done. "Stop it!" he ground out, grabbing at Carol's hips to still her frantic movements. That didn't help at all, finding himself inadvertently grinding their bodies together even more. Daryl tried to make himself let go of her, but his hands had different ideas, staying where they were.

Carol seemed oblivious to his struggles, as she fought with the hatch above. "I can't stay here," she gasped, ignoring him completely. "I have to get out!"

"You can't," bit out Daryl in frustration. "Those chicken wing arms of yours aren't strong enough. Just stop!" _Please God, just stop._ He squeezed his eyes close and fought against the intense fissures of pleasure which were starting to overtake his body.

"God damn it!" Carol uncharacteristically swore. "Open, you son of a bitch, OPEN!"

For some reason, Carol swearing sounded kind of erotic to Daryl. _Fuck, this was a nightmare._ He couldn't be like this with Carol, she was too important to him.

"I think that last Walker fell on the hatch," she panted. "The huge one. I can't get him off." Carol dropped her arms, slumping in defeat as she realised they were trapped until Glenn and Carl came looking for them.

Daryl kept himself completely rigid underneath her, in more ways than one, praying Carol was too distracted to notice the effect she was having on him.

Carol raised her hands to her sweaty face and drew in an unsteady breath, trying to calm herself down. She sat back on him and Daryl felt her suddenly go still. Dropping her hands, Carol was now looking at him with an arched eyebrow. There was a long moment of silence. "Although," she drawled at last, "it seems I'm managin' to get someone off."

Daryl was glad of the dark so she couldn't see his violent blushing.

A small smile was playing around Carol's lips, even as she was still trying to catch her breath.

"It's my knife," blurted out Daryl, desperate for the ground to swallow him whole and end his embarrassment.

"You mean the one stuck in the Walker's head on top of the hatch?" asked Carol calmly.

Daryl glared at her. "Yes."

"Okay."

"Get offa me," Daryl ground out, realising the situation wasn't correcting itself as Carol continued to straddle him.

"Okay, of course." Carol tried to climb off him but the space was so limited she ended up just squirming over him more as she tried to move her leg over him.

Fresh blood headed south of the border for Daryl. "Stop," he said tightly. "Stop movin', _now_."

Carol immediately stopped moving, her arms either side of Daryl's head as she'd been holding onto the top of the trays of cans for leverage. Their faces were bare inches apart. Daryl avoided looking at Carol, but he was still very conscious of the fact she was still straddling his lap.

"You know, there is nothing to be embarrassed about, Daryl. It's a normal body reaction." Her breath teased his face with that attempt at defusing the situation.

"I ain't embarrassed," he snapped, still not looking at her.

"Okay," said Carol casually, "but if you were, you don't have to be. You know, with how the group is, everyone all up in everyone else's space, there are bound to be some awkward moments."

Daryl didn't respond, just tried to think about something else.

"This one time, on Hershel's farm, I was coming back through the woods after picking some berries and I came up on Shane, umm, relieving the tensions of the day, shall we say," recalled Carol in amusement.

Daryl looked at her in horror. "What?"

"He didn't see me," said Carol conversationally. "But I guess he had his hands full," she continued on straight-faced.

Daryl made a distressed face, really not wanting to think about that.

"Come on," she coaxed him teasingly, "that has to help the situation, thinking of Shane like that." Carol moved a little on top of him, forcing a groan from Daryl's lips. "Sorry, my leg was cramping up."

"Just sit still and stop talkin'," he said from behind gritted teeth.

"I think we should just talk about something else," Carol volunteered. "Like, how much food do you think the owners of this place have stashed away down here?"

Daryl just stared at a spot above Carol's head.

"I think there is a lot," continued on Carol. "Maybe Maggie is right and I've got the magic touch all of sudden." Their eyes meant briefly. "I meant for finding food," she clarified, quickly. "Not that my touch is magical for anything else."

"Did I stuttered when I said I didn't want to talk?" asked Daryl grouchily.

"I'm sorry," she apologised unsteadily, "it's just that if we stop talking then I'll remember I'm in this tiny, dark space and I can't really breathe."

"You can breathe just fine, what with all that yappin' you're doin'," said Daryl tersely.

"Don't you have any phobias?"

"No."

"Seriously? Not even one?"

"I got this fear of bein' talked to death by a woman," he snapped.

"You know," said Carol conversationally, "most men in your state are a little happier." Before Daryl could find a retort to that, Carol spasmed on top of him. "Oh God!" she cried out, wiggling around on him again. "My leg!" she gasped in pain. "It's cramping up."

"Stop moving!" he ordered her, but Carol wasn't listening, her face contorted in pain.

Her hand went to her left leg, clutching at it. "Ow, ow, ow!" she moaned.

"Quiet, the Walkers will hear you!"

"Ow, ow, owww!" she groaned, but more quietly this time.

Daryl brushed Carol's hand away and started rubbing her upper thigh, feeling for himself the knotted muscle there. Carol closed her eyes, her expression still one of pain as she rested her face against her outstretched arm which was still just above Daryl's head. His fingers worked their way into the clenched muscles, forcing them to loosen.

"That feels so good," Carol sighed in relief, her eyes still closed. "Don't stop."

Carol's face was directly in front of his, so Daryl was able to see the pain slowly leave her face. From avoiding looking at her, Daryl found himself suddenly unable to look away. Her uneven breathing slowly became more regular as the last bit of pain ebbed away. Carol's eyes opened and suddenly they were looking directly at each other. She blinked. "Thank you."

Daryl just nodded, feeling this unfamiliar tension between them and wondering if Carol could feel it too.

"How's your leg?" she asked quietly.

Daryl had to think what Carol meant by that for a moment, he hadn't been thinking about his legs for quite awhile now. "Still stuck." He hated how hoarse his voice sounded.

"They're going to find us," Carol promised him. "Glenn and Carl, I mean."

In that moment, Daryl had to confess he didn't actually care. His hand moved restlessly on her thigh, not needing to be massaging it any longer, but also not willing to lose the contact.

"I-I think I should try the hatch again," said Carol.

"Okay." Neither one of them moved. The blood was roaring in Daryl's ears as he tried to figure out what was happening between them, or even more confusingly, what he wanted to happen between them.

"Daryl, Carol, can you hear me?" The hissed sound of their names coming from above startled them both.

Carol expelled a relieved breath. "Glenn!" she called out. "We're down here." The floorboards above them creaked again.

"Where are you?"

"Under the floor," she answered. "You have to move the giant Walker to get to the trapdoor."

Carl's voice was suddenly in the mix. "I found Daryl's crossbow, but I ain't seen him or Carol."

Glenn filled him in. "They're under the floor."

"Oh."

"You and Daryl are both down there, right?" quizzed Glenn.

"I'm here," grunted Daryl.

"You two okay?"

Daryl and Carol looked at each other. "Daryl's got his foot caught," answered Carol, "but yeah, apart from that, we're fine. Plus, I think we've found some food."

"Alright," said Glenn excitedly, "Carol gets lucky again."

Carol gave a lop-sided smile to Daryl. "You could say that."

Daryl didn't have an answer for that.

**oooOOOOooo**

The car bounced along the now dirt road as Daryl resolutely kept his eyes on the road in front as he drove them all back to the prison. The back of the pickup was loaded with all the tinned food they'd recovered from the crawl space where they'd been trapped. They really had hit the mother lode with a huge amount of tinned food secreted away down there. Glenn and Carl were currently sitting on top of all of the trays of tinned food in the back of the pick up as they drove home. Carol glanced over at Daryl.

"We ain't talkin' 'bout it," said Daryl resolutely, not taking his eyes off the road.

"This isn't a big deal unless we make it into a big deal," offered up Carol, not liking this sudden uncomfortableness between them. "Not talking about it makes it into a big deal."

Daryl scowled at her. "No, it don't."

Carol wasn't about to let this go. Daryl was too important to her to have this awkwardness hanging between them. "Look, what happened, happened, it's not like I'm going to be telling anyone about it."

"Like you didn't tell me about what you saw with Shane?" Daryl threw back at her.

"Shane's dead now, that don't count."

"So, when I'm dead, you're going to tell what happened?" asked Daryl in annoyance.

"Well, not at the funeral maybe," she shot back teasingly.

Daryl grunted at her attempt at humour.

"Look, nothing happened except for a perfectly normal male bodily function to unintentional stimulus."

"Don't make me throw you out of this car," Daryl bit out, eyes still on the road.

"It's not like I think we're going steady now," Carol pushed on. "We're going to laugh about it in a couple of days, you'll see. It's like the time Rick-" She stopped abruptly.

Daryl did look at her then. "Rick what?"

Carol wrinkled her nose. "He grabbed my breast."

Daryl's eyes went wide. "What?!"

"Not intentionally," she said quickly. "I was helping him fix Dale's RV and Rick was underneath it and he reached out blindly for a rag, not realising I was just there and he accidentally grabbed my boob instead." Carol shrugged. "We laughed it off... eventually."

Daryl shook his head. "I don't believe this."

"My point is that these things happen."

Daryl cast her a dark look. "If you're you they seem to."

"Would it make you feel better if I told you something embarrassing about me?"

"Death wouldn't make me feel better at this point," said Daryl flatly.

"I can't whistle."

Daryl glanced over at her. "What are you talkin' 'bout?"

"I can't whistle."

"Everyone can whistle."

"I can't. No matter how hard I try, I can't whistle."

"That ain't the same thing," he grumbled. "And we ain't talkin' about this anymore."

"Okay," sighed Carol, giving up for now. "But all that happened today was that my nerves got a little weak, while your resolve... you know, hardened." She couldn't help but smile a little.

Daryl threw her an exasperated look. "One more word and you're walkin' home, woman."

Carol pressed her lips together to prevent her smile widening but she could hear in Daryl's voice that he wasn't overly upset anymore. That was good, because as days went for her, this hadn't been a bad one. Carol didn't let herself analyse why that might be too closely. Some things were just better let be. She and Daryl were fine as they were and Carol would never risk what they had for something more complicated. There was just too much to lose. Besides, the notion that Daryl would actually want something more from them really was a laughable one. They'd found a status quo between them which worked and neither one would give that up easily. If only Carol could see into the future though, she would have realised that some complications aren't so easy to avoid.

But she couldn't see into the future, so, for then, she remained in happy obliviousness for the maelstrom heading their way which would change everything between them...


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N****: Hey guys, thanks for your patience with this chapter. I didn't mean it to take so long. Truth be told this chapter was only meant to be a lead into a Caryl scene, but it took on a life of its own, so it became its own chapter. There is no Caryl in it, but I hope you'll like it anyway. Hopefully you Rick fans will approve. ;) **

**And thank you so much to everyone for your amazing response to the last chapter. I really was on pins and needles, so it's a huge relief to know that the tone of the last chapter worked for you. I'm planning on building on that a bit in the next chapter, and we'll see where that takes us. **

**Okay, so I think I'm coming down with a head cold and I've got to work all weekend and next week, so I'm going to attempt to go to bed early and sleep this sucker off. Hope you enjoy the chapter and the next chapter shouldn't be far away, as it is mostly already written.**

**Thanks again for hanging in there with this story... *smiles and waves***

**Chapter Twelve**

Rick rested his shotgun against his shoulder as he walked back into the cellblock. It was only mid morning, but already the sun was making its presence known. Sweat ran from his brow and he wiped at it with a grubby hand. Rick couldn't help but think again how grateful he was for the protection of the prison as he thought about the Georgian heat and the cold of its winters. The prison had cost them dearly in lives and injuries, but they finally had something that could be loosely called a home. This place had been a God-send, or a send from whoever was in charge these days. Rick wasn't really sure if it was God anymore. It was probably best if it wasn't God, truth be told, because the last time he'd prayed, his son had been shot. Rick didn't like to think of the God he'd been taught about in Sunday school classes being quite that malicious. Up ahead of him in the common room of the prison, the place they all generally congregated during the day, Rick heard Carl's voice. He went to call out to him if he wanted to go on another patrol with him when he realised his son wasn't alone.

Rick stopped just by the door, keeping out of sight as he peeked in at Carl and Beth. Now that Carol had pointed out Carl's crush on the young girl, it was pretty obvious. Rick was still frustrated with himself that he hadn't noticed his son's first crush. Carl was going to have so precious few milestones in his life now, ones worth remembering anyway. Milestones like proms, going off to college, your first pay check, hell, even getting married was unlikely to be on the cards for his boy. Rick's face clouded over to think of that. As a parent you just wanted to give your child everything you had and more. He couldn't offer that to Carl now. Carl's life was full of struggle and death and Rick's heart tightened as he thought what the future held for Judith. If he could even protect that precious little girl to adulthood, she'd never have known the life that used to be. Rick couldn't work out if it was better to be like Carl and to have known what was lost, or to be like Judith, and never know what it was she missed out on.

"Thanks for helping me, Carl," said Beth as they stacked up the piles of folded laundry neatly. "I really appreciate it."

"That's okay," said Carl. He gave a little smile. "I like helpin' you."

Beth just smiled at that. She reached over towards him for the last pile of clothing. "Here," she said, indicating he should pass the pile to her.

Carl handed her the pile and Rick noticed him lingering a little longer than he needed to with the simple act. "Your hair smells real nice," said Carl and then gave a little blush.

Rick couldn't help but smile. He was as horrible at flirting as his old man. Rick had never had that assuredness that seemed to come so easily to men like Shane. He'd always been a little awkward around women he was romantically interested in.

Beth looked pleased at the compliment. "Daryl brought back these sweet-smellin' berries one day. Said they were good for crushing up and putting it into the water you wash your hair with. Gives your hair a real nice perfume fragrance to it."

"Daryl got you the berries?" asked Carl in disbelief.

"Yeah, wasn't that sweet of him?"

Carl shrugged. "I guess. I just didn't see Daryl as a perfume kinda guy. I mean, most times the guy needs a bath, real bad."

Beth giggled. "You gonna tell him?" she asked teasingly.

Carl snorted. "I ain't stupid."

"Me neither." They grinned at each other.

Rick watched Carl take off his hat and run his hand nervously through his hair. "Ah, Beth?"

"Mmm?" replied Beth absently as she started to place the stacks of folded laundry into a basket.

"I-ah-, I got somethin' for you."

Beth stopped what she was doing and looked at him in surprise. "For me?"

Carl stuck his hand into his jeans pocket and drew out a little black velvet box. He handed it to Beth. "I-ah-I saw it and kinda thought of you. I thought you might like it."

Beth walked around to the same side of the table as Carl and took the offered box from him. She looked somewhere between mildly confused and touched. "But it ain't my birthday."

"It will be," said Carl quickly. "And besides, I missed your last one."

Her lips turned up in a smile. "So, is this a late birthday gift or an early one?" she teased him.

Carl stuck his hands in the back of his jeans and shrugged. "I reckon whatever you like." He nodded his head at the box. "Ain't you gonna open it?"

"Of course." Beth opened the velvet box with Carl watching her really closely. She gave a little gasp of pleasure. "Oh Carl, it's darlin'." Beth touched the delicate bracelet with her finger before looking up and grinning at him. "I've never had anything this fine before."

Carl looked relieved, his face splitting into a huge grin. "You really like it?"

"I love it," said Beth enthusiastically and gave him an impulsive kiss on the cheek.

From where Rick was standing he could swear his son grew a full two inches in height from that little peck on the cheek. Rick couldn't help but smile at how happy Carl looked right then, not caring that he was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"You gonna put it on?" asked Carl happily.

Beth gave him an excited smile and did just that, quickly freeing it from the box and putting it on her wrist. She held her arm up to show him. "What do you think?"

Carl grinned. "I think it looks real pretty." He cleared his throat nervously. "Just like you."

Beth stopped admiring her new bracelet to look back at him.

Carl took a deep breath and ploughed on. "I think you're real pretty, Beth," he said unevenly.

Beth was looking a little uncertain now.

"I love you," Carl blurted out and then looked every bit the awkward thirteen year old boy he was.

Rick's heart beat erratically for his son. He'd thought asking a girl out when he'd been a young man had been nerve-wracking, but it was actually worse watching your own child go through it. Beth was a kind-hearted girl and Rick prayed she was going to let Carl down gently.

Beth bit her bottom lip. "I think you're real sweet, Carl," she said earnestly.

Carl's face dropped. "You think I'm a kid," he said unhappily at his declaration of love being met with that response.

"No," said Beth quickly, "I don't think you're a kid. I think you're amazing."

Carl's face lit up. "You-you do?"

Beth nodded. "Of course I do," she said sincerely. "All that you've been through, the way you look after all of us. You're more than amazing."

"But you don't love me," said Carl quietly.

Beth sat down on the bench seat and patted the seat beside her. Carl reluctantly took it, looking downcast. Rick's heart broke a little for his son in that moment.

Beth turned the jewellery box over in her hand, talking softly. "You know Jimmy was my first real boyfriend. It wasn't anything serious and then the world ended and he ended up at the farm and well," she looked sad, "you know the rest."

"I liked Jimmy," said Carl, staring at a spot on the ground in front of them.

"I did too, but I didn't love him."

"And you don't love me either, I get it," said Carl dejectedly.

Beth turned to face him, an earnest expression on her face. "Everything has changed so quickly, Carl. This world-" she made a helpless wave of her hand, "-I'm still trying to make sense of it. Being here in the prison is the first time any of us have had a chance to stop and catch our breaths this past year." Beth's face crumpled a little. "I use to know what I wanted for my life. I was going to go to college, become a veterinarian, open up my own little practice in town, get married and have kids and Maggie was going to get married and have kids and our kids would play together and we'd all grow old together." Beth's bottom lip quivered. "One big happy family."

Rick looked away briefly at the emotion in the young woman's voice. He understood what Beth was saying. One day you had this blue print of how your life was meant to go, the next thing you know, everything was just torn away. In the beginning folks had been desperate to reclaim what had been lost, to try and return to a way of life that had ended the day the dead had started to walk with the living. But Rick now knew that there was no going back to how things were. The world had irrevocably changed, he accepted that now. They all had to face a future none of them knew was supposed to look like.

Beth continued talking. "But all that is gone now," she said painfully. "All my dreams are dead and I don't know if I'll ever even have any new ones." Beth took Carl's hand, her expression earnest. "But what I do know is that you're so important to me, Carl. I need you. Everything is gone, but you and the others, you're still here. I don't ever want to lose that." Tears were filling Beth's eyes.

"Don't cry," Carl pleaded with her, looking upset too.

She squeezed his hand tighter. "I just want you to know that I do love you," said Beth emotionally. "We're all a family now."

"So, I'm like a little brother to you?" he asked Carl tightly.

"No, I didn't mean it like that." Beth made a pained faced. "I don't know how to explain it other than I do love you but I don't have much else to give right now. I don't know what the future holds, but I know I want that future to have you in it, Carl." Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Beth's expression was one of caution when she did speak. "Are-are we still friends? Do you hate me now?"

"I could never hate you, Beth," said Carl simply. He looked away briefly. "So, you're sayin' no to us bein'-bein' more than just friends then, even though you love me too?"

Beth held his gaze steadily. "I'm sayin' not right now," she said huskily. "I don't know what is gonna happen later on. Okay?"

Carl half-smiled. "Okay."

Beth gave a proper smile and leaned over and gave him another kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for understanding, Carl."

Carl nodded. "Sure."

Beth stood up and picked up the basket of clothes. "I'd better start gettin' things ready for lunch." She sent him an expectant look. "You comin'?"

Carl shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll sit a bit."

"Okay," said Beth softly. "I do really love the bracelet, Carl. I'll wear it always." She turned around and headed towards the door.

Rick quickly backed up, pretending he was just coming down the corridor. He smiled at her as they passed. "Hey, Beth."

"Hey, Rick," she returned easily.

Rick continued on into the common room to see Carl still sitting on the bench. He put down his shotgun and took a seat next to Carl. Neither one said anything for a bit.

"I told Beth I loved her," said Carl suddenly.

"Oh," said Rick, feigning ignorance, "how did that go?"

"She loves me, just not in that way." He pulled a face. "Not yet anyway."

Rick nodded. "I see." He shot Carl a sideways look. "How you feel 'bout that?"

Carl moved his shoulders restlessly. "I don't know, okay, I guess. I kinda have to be." He looked up at Rick, young face set seriously. "Do you think I was dumb to tell her that?"

"No," said Rick without hesitation, "you weren't dumb at all. In fact, you were a lot smarter than I was at your age."

Carl tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"The first girl I feel in love with never knew," confessed Rick.

Carl's tone was surprised. "It wasn't Mom?"

Rick gave a lop-sided smile. "No, it wasn't Mom. It was another girl called Kathy-Lee. I was around your age when she first transferred into my class at school. I took one look at her and just fell right away."

Carl thought about that for a moment. "Was she pretty?"

"I thought so," said Rick with a smile. "She had this auburn hair and the cutest batch of freckles across her nose you ever did see." He lost himself in his memories of a simpler time for a moment. "And she always smelt of raspberries. I never did figure out if it was her shampoo or what, but she always smelt of honey."

"Did you two go out?"

Rick gave a wry smile. "No. I was too chicken to ask her. Instead I kinda just followed her around for four years." He gave a dry laugh. "I once stole her book just so I could give it back to her but even so, I never worked up the nerve to say how I felt to her." He scratched his cheek and looked thoughtful. "Last I heard she got married and had six kids." Rick frowned. Kathy-Lee was probably dead now. It was hard to think the object of his schoolyard crush for all those years dead, or worse, a Walker. She was always going to be that fresh-faced teen in his head. Rick pulled himself back into the present and looked down at his son. "You know what I've just been thinkin' about?"

"What?"

"I've been thinkin' about how every parent wants more for their child then they had. That you want them to grow to be up better than you, to have more advantages then you have. I was thinkin' that you weren't gonna have that, Carl, and that broke my heart."

"I don't care about all that stuff, Dad. It don't matter no more."

"It matters, Carl," said Rick quietly. "You see, I thought my chance to give you all the things I never had when all this happened." He ran his hand through Carl's hair, tussling it lovingly as emotional tears filled his eyes. "Meanwhile, I couldn't see that it was already happening." Rick put his arm around Carl and hugged him to his side. "What you did today, man, that was brave, way braver than your daddy ever was at your age." He drew back and gave Carl an urgent look. "And I ain't talking 'bout brave in the way you are when you handle that gun and protect others." Rick tapped at Carl's chest. "I mean, brave, in there."

"It was stupid to tell Beth how I felt, not brave," argued Carl, looking downcast again.

"It wasn't stupid," Rick countered quickly.

Carl shrugged. "I guess I learned not to do it again."

"Don't say that," said Rick in concern. "Don't ever say that."

"Why?" asked Carl uncertainly.

"I don't want you to carry around the burden I got inside of me, Carl," said Rick hoarsely. "I think it's too late for me, but you gotta learn letting people in, taking that risk, it's where true courage lies. Your Mom-" his voice cracked and Rick was forced to look away briefly to blink back tears. Rick drew in a shaky breath and continued on, looking back at Carl. "I didn't communicate like I should have with your Mom, Carl. I shut her out because I was tryin' to protect her, but in the end, I think I was just protectin' myself. I want you to be a better man than that. Don't stop lettin' people into that heart of yours, Carl, you hear me? I've tried to carry all the people that are in my heart, you, your sister, everyone in our group and I'm strugglin', Carl. Most days I think I've done more harm than good for y'all."

"You're keepin' us all safe, Dad," said Carl solemnly. "We all know what you're doin' for us."

Rick gave a sad smile. "But it ain't enough, particularly for you and Judith. In order to keep you all safe, I kind of withdraw, go into myself to do what needs to be done." He bent down and rested his forehead against Carl's. "Please don't do that," said Rick hoarsely. "Learn from my mistakes." He pulled away a little so he could look Carl in the eye. "What you did today with Beth shows me the kind of man you are going to be, Carl, and I couldn't be prouder. Maybe I can't give you all the things I wanted to in this world, but it seems to me, all the things you really need are already inside of you." Rick hadn't meant to dump so much on Carl all at once, but the one thing about this new way of life was completely unrelenting about was that time was precious, moments were precious. He knew he may never get to tell Carl some of the truths he was just coming to understand if he didn't do it now. Rick drew Carl into his side and kissed the top of his head. "I love you, Carl. No matter what else you remember about me, promise me you'll remember that."

"I will," said Carl quietly, "and I love you too, Dad."

The two generations of Grimes men sat there quietly for a long moment, both simply being with one another and enjoying the rare pleasure of harmony. Rick held on tightly to his son, wishing things could always be like this.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N****: Sorry this chapter was a little longer coming than I'd anticipated. Haven't had internet connection for a day. There has been some incredibly wild weather down south and lines have been cut. The flooding is unbelievable. So horrible. :(**

**Anyways, here is the chapter. I'd been putting off writing the conversation between Rick and Hershel that's in the first part, but in the end, I'm kind of pleased with what they touched on. It works for me and this story. Possibly you'll just read it and go, whatever, but for me, it turned out better than I thought it would. The second part of the chapter is very different in tone, so I hope that isn't too much of a change of gears between scenes for you all. I suspect it is, but I've warned you now, so everyone just brace accordingly please. LOL **

**Thank you as always for reading and hope you enjoy...**

**Chapter Thirteen**

Hershel looked up from his book as Rick took a seat across from him later that afternoon. He smiled at the younger man. "You look beat."

Rick ran his hand through his growingly unruly hair. "It's a hot day out there." He looked around. "Where is everyone?" Rick already knew Carl and Axel were on different guard duties.

"Beth is doing some washing, Maggie and Glennn just left for town and I think Carol's out workin' on the garden. Daryl was just here, but he headed off and Oscar is tinkerin' with that generator."

"I should get back out there."

"Sit and rest your bones for a bit," admonished Hershel gently. "You drive yourself too hard."

Rick's expression darkened. "I have to, everyone is depending on me."

Hershel gave him a considered look. "Hmm." He worried about Rick a lot. The man carried too much.

Rick was looking at the book he was reading. "A bible? Where did you get that?"

"Glennn found it in the warden's office, brought it back for me." Hershel smiled at the young man's thoughtfulness. "He thought I'd appreciate it." He looked at Rick. "And I do."

"I thought you gave up on all that stuff after what happened with the barn and everythin'," said Rick unevenly.

Hershel grimaced. "I may have given up on God, but He didn't give up on me."

"Hershel, you got bit and I hacked your leg off," said Rick in disbelief. "Don't you think maybe it'd be a good thing if God did give up on you? Gettin' attention from Him seems to be the kiss of death."

"I ain't dead," pointed out Hershel easily.

Rick gave him a hard look. "Be honest, aren't their moments you wish you were?"

"A moment doesn't fill a life, Rick, even if it feels like it at the time." said Hershel calmly. He knew Rick was thinking about losing Lori and the way it'd happened and almost losing Carl. Hershel felt for him, but he wasn't going to let Rick wallow in the negatives and completely ignore the positives. It was too tempting a road to go down and he'd just clawed his way back from that nightmare and that was with the help of Rick. Hershel felt like it was up to him to him to extend the same courtesy to the driven man sitting in front of him. He looked down at the bible in his hands and read from the chapter he'd just been reading. "No testing has overtaken you that is not common to everyone. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it." Hershel captured Rick's gaze. "1 Corinthians 10 verse 13."

Rick's jaw hardened, but there was a glimmer of emotion in his eyes. "Those are just words on a page, Hershel."

"Put there by God to help us find our way through this life," he countered firmly.

"How can you still believe in a benevolent God?" asked Rick in distress. He waved a hand around. "After all of this? After all you've seen, had done to you?"

"How can I not?" Hershel shifted in his chair. "Son, I don't pretend to know the Almighty's plan for all of this. I don't understand His rhyme or reason, but I do know that God is good, and whatever happens, it happens for a reason."

"And is that reason good enough to balance out my children growing up without a mother?" asked Rick bitterly. "Or Carol seein' me blow her little girl's brains out or me havin' to stick a knife in the belly of my best friend? God's caused all of this suffering and we just never get to know why, is that it? He's just sitting up there, lookin' down at us and laughin' as we stumble around in the dark?" He stopped abruptly and looked away, dragging in a ragged breath after that tirade. Rick looked back at Hershel, his expression angry. "If God is even watchin' anymore, He doesn't care about any of us, otherwise He wouldn't put us through this hell on earth."

Hershel had just let Rick get it all out, but now that he was finished, he had something to say. "You know, Rick, I think God knows a little somethin' about sacrifice and loss. He gave His only son over to a world who He knew was going to torture and kill him. God ain't indifferent to all that is happening and maybe if you went to Him and spent some time prayin', you might find that out for yourself."

"The last time I prayed, my son got shot," said Rick cynically.

"The last time you prayed, your son _survived _a gunshot wound which shoulda been fatal," countered Hershel softly.

Rick looked a little taken aback at that.

Hershel lent in over the table, his voice low. "Son, I'm not gonna pretend to know how you feel, but I am gonna tell you what I see." He set Rick with a serious look. "You're adrift, Rick. All the things which used to anchor you have gone. Lori, your friendship with Shane, and yes, even Dale. Those people anchored you. Boucin' off them, you found your path but now they're not here anymore and you're just-" Hershel spread his hands, "adrift," he repeated.

Rick pressed his lips together and looked down at the table, emotion thickening his next words. "There ain't nothin' I can do about that, because they're all dead now."

"I know that, son," said Hershel quietly, "but there are folks around you who ain't."

Rick's expression registered pain, but Hershel pressed on.

"It seems to me that you could deal with sharin' some of that load you're always carryin' 'bout." Hershel tapped the table to make Rick look up. "You ain't alone, Rick. We got others willin' to stand by you, you don't have to carry this group on your own. It don't always have to be your responsibility."

"But it is," said Rick in anguish. "I lead the group here. This is all down to me."

Hershel half-smiled. "You got a big opinion of yourself, ain't you, boy?" He shook his head. "We all impact on the group. All of our decisions, all of our choices, none of us can stand off to one side anymore. It's the way it is now. You gotta get it out of your head that you're in this alone, Rick, because you ain't."

Rick looked torn by his words. Hershel could see the younger man wanted to take him at his word but old habits died hard.

Hershel had one last thing to say on the subject. "You may have lost Shane, Lori and Dale and there is no replacin' them, but you've still got the likes of Daryl, Carol and me." His tone was determined. "And that ain't nothin'."

Rick actually managed a little smile. "I know it ain't," he said huskily. Rick held his gaze steadily. "Thank you, Hershel."

Hershel nodded. "You just remember what I said. You ain't alone."

"I know," said Rick quietly, "but it's hard not to feel that way." His expression was grateful. "But I appreciate you sayin' all that you did, Hershel."

"Seems like I had to say somethin'," noted Hershel with a little smile, trying to lighten the mood, "seein' as we were fixin' to become kin there for a bit." He'd said his piece, now it was up to Rick what he did with it.

Rick half-smiled. "You know about Carl and Beth?"

He nodded. "I do. Beth came and talked to me about it, askin' if she'd done the right thing."

"She did," Rick confirmed. "Beth was real kind to him."

"She's a good girl."

"That she is."

Hershel gave Rick a pointed look. "And Carl's a good boy and I reckon that's down to you, Rick. You and Lori."

"I reckon that was more Lori than me," said Rick unhappily.

Hershel patted Rick's hand. "Don't sell yourself short, son. Carl's makin' his way in this world, just like we all had to and he's lucky to have you as a daddy."

"I hope you're right, Hershel, I really do," said Rick shakily.

**oooOOOOOooo**

Daryl walked out into the compound area and spotted Carol over by the fence, tending to the garden. He headed over to where she was kneeling in the ground, bent over a row of budding sprouts.

Carol looked up as he came to stand over her and smiled. "Change of guard time already," she noted, glancing over at the guard tower where Axel was wandering back and forth aimlessly.

Daryl nodded. "Nearly." He held out the opened can he was holding to her, a fork already sticking out of the top.

Carol's face brightened as she looked at the contents. "Peaches," she said in delight. "I can't remember the last time I had peaches." Carol stood up and dusted the dirt from her knees. "Were they part of our haul yesterday?"

Daryl nodded again. "Beth has been sortin' through them. I figured you might like some, you've been out here all day."

A mischievous smile touched her lips as she accepted the can of peaches. "Does this mean we're friends again? You know, after-"

"We ain't talkin' about it," he interrupted her firmly. Daryl didn't know why, but it didn't bother him when Carol teased him. In the past, if anyone else had dared, they would have had a very unhappy redneck to contend with.

"So, the peaches are a bribe then?" said Carol in amusement.

"If I gotta bribe you, I may as well just kill you. It'd be less fussin'."

Carol gave a little laugh, clearly unfazed by his vague threats. "What, no one gets up close and personal with Daryl Dixon and lives to talk about it, is that how it goes?" She skewered a peach and then popped it in her mouth. "Oh my," she sighed happily chewing away, "that's better than sex."

Daryl tried not to react, but his stomach turned over nervously. "What's with you and the sex talk all of a sudden?" he grumbled.

Carol arched an eyebrow at him jokingly. "You started it."

"I wasn't the one bouncin' around like a rabid bunny," Daryl complained half-heartedly. Why couldn't they stop talking about this? He should just walk away. Daryl's feet didn't quite get the message though as he stayed rooted to the spot, watching Carol devour her can of peaches in between teasing him.

"I was having a panic attack," said Carol unrepentantly. "A girl can't be held accountable for her actions during a panic attack."

Daryl snorted. "That weren't no panic attack."

Carol's lips twitched. "Maybe not from where you were sitting, but trust me, I wasn't a happy camper."

"Don't say it," he cautioned her quickly.

"Unlike you," said Carol cheekily, ignoring his warning completely.

"I'm walkin' away," announced Daryl flatly but didn't immediately move.

"You're doin' it wrong," she sassed him.

"What is wrong with you?" asked Daryl in exasperation, even though he was actually having fun now.

"I think it's the sugar from the peaches and all the sun," laughed Carol. "I may be on some kind of high." She skewered another peach and offered it to Daryl.

"One? I get one?"

"You're lucky to get that," she said straight-faced.

Daryl took her hand with the fork and directed the peach into his mouth.

"Amazing, right?"

Daryl shrugged. "I ain't got much of a sweet tooth."

"Freak."

"Pig."

They smiled at each other and then Carol was looking over his shoulder. She squinted off into the distance. "Looks like Glennn and Maggie are back early from town. I guess they couldn't find much."

Daryl glanced over his shoulder to see their car still a long ways off down the road leading to the prison. "We're right for the next little while. Ain't no big deal." He turned his attention back to Carol as she offered him another peach. Daryl shook his head, getting more pleasure from watching her enjoyment of the sweet treat.

Carol licked her lips, Daryl tried not to notice. _What was wrong with him all of a sudden?_ This new development was unnerving.

"You hear Carl gave Beth that bracelet?" asked Carol, still intent on her tin of peaches and seemingly oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"It's hard to keep a secret round here." Daryl moved his shoulders. "At least she let him down gentle like."

Carol eyed the peach on her fork, looking a little regretful. "I'm sorry Carl got his heart broke, but a little pain in the beginning is worth a whole lot at the end." She half-smiled. "Although I'm glad Carl got to think about somethin' other than death and just surviving day to day." Carol sighed. "But then, now is all we seem to have."

"I don't understand people lookin' for something like that," said Daryl gruffly. "Things are hard enough as they are."

"I know what you mean," agreed Carol readily. She sent him a sceptical look. "So, you've never looked at someone like Andrea and thought about it, not even once?

Daryl side-eyed her. "The woman shot me in the head."

Carol smiled. "Don't be melodramatic. She grazed you in the head."

"I ain't handed out bonus points for her bein' a God-awful shot," he complained.

Carol laughed. "Probably just as well, seein' as she and Shane were already going at it."

Daryl's eyebrow shot up. "How you know that?"

"Saw them," said Carol simply. "I was looking for Rick and passed by Andrea's tent. Let's just say they're not quiet people."

Daryl shook his head at her. "You need to start lettin' people know you're comin'," announced Daryl. "Whistle or somethin'."

"I told you," said Carol, finishing off the last of the peaches. "I can't whistle."

"You were serious 'bout that?" asked Daryl in disbelief.

"Why would I lie?"

"I don't know why women do half the things they do," said Daryl flatly.

"Well, I wasn't lyin', I don't know how to whistle."

"All you gotta do is put your lips together and blow, how hard is that?"

"I do that but a whistle doesn't come out."

"Show me."

"It's bad."

"Just show me, woman."

Carol pursed her lips and blew out a noisy breath, essentially blowing a raspberry.

He blinked, expression not changing. "You spat on me."

"I warned you."

"You're doin' it wrong."

Carol rolled her eyes. "You don't say, Professor Dixon."

"Your lips are too loose. Here." He put a hand up to her face, his finger and thumb on either side of Carol's lips. "Do it again." Carol pursed her lips and Daryl squeezed them so they were tighter. "Just drop your tongue down and blow." Carol blew but again, only a wheezing sound came from her lips. Daryl looked at her.

"Told you," said Carol philosophically. "I think there is something wrong with my mouth."

Daryl looked at Carol's lips he was still encircling with his hand. "There ain't nothin' wrong with your mouth," he asserted. "It's-" Daryl caught himself just in time to not say perfect, which was the word he was thinking of as he looked at Carol's lips. That unwanted tension was back in his body, the blood quickening a little in his veins at what had started as such an innocent thing. Maybe he had a touch of the sun as well, because Daryl was suddenly feeling a little light headed. "It's fine," he finished gruffly and unconsciously rubbed her cheek with his thumb.

Carol's lips parted. "Oh," she breathed out, sounding stunned.

Daryl tensed, suddenly wondering if she was feeling this new pull between them too. He dragged his eyes from Carol's lips, frightened about what kind of expectations he might see in her gaze and knowing he was out of his depth. When Daryl's eyes went to meet hers however, it was to see that Carol wasn't looking at him at all, but rather at a point over his shoulder. Daryl twisted around to see what she was looking so shocked about. Glennn and Maggie were at the prison gate now and standing together by the car as a figure moved out from behind them. Daryl's hand dropped away from Carol's face as he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Merle," he said unevenly, seeing his brother for the first time in almost a year.

Merle had seen him too. He shouted out to him from across the field. "Hey there, little brother," he said in that overly exuberant tone of his, "look who's back in town!"

Daryl felt Carol's supportive hand on his back as he struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

Even from this distance they could see the giant grin on Merle's face. "Now get you bony ass down here and give old Merle some love! We got some lost time to make up for."

Daryl swallowed hard. _Oh shit._

**A/N****: And NOW it's a party! LOL **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N****: Finally got this chapter done, guys. Thank you as always for your patience. :D**

**I'm not overly happy with it. I'm a little worried I'm getting too Sweet Valley High with this. I'm going to have to watch that. Merle's introduction into this story is set to stir up a lot of things and I'm looking forward to seeing the guy bounce off the different characters. He's such a great character to write for. I hope I can do him justice. **

**Hope to update soon...**

**Chapter Fourteen**

"We are all in the same boat, in a stormy sea, and we owe each other a terrible loyalty."

_G.K. Chesterton_

"I can't believe we're even having this discussion!"

Daryl stopped short at the sound of Glennn's raised voice. He looked down between the metal railings of the raised walkway to see the rest of the group, minus Axel and Oscar, standing in a circle below. None of them had noticed his arrival and Daryl took a quick step back so that they couldn't spot him should any of them think to look up. He crouched down and listened in on the group's back and forth, watching them through the railings.

Rick's tone was firm. "We're havin' this discussion because we have to make a decision."

Glennn's usually easy going nature was gone as he spoke again. "There is only one decision to make," he said heatedly. "Merle has to go. We can't let him stay."

Daryl pressed his lips together, not surprised to find out what this little get together was about, but not liking it any.

Glennn's agitation was growing. "He put a knife to Maggie's neck, he beat up on me, all so we'd bring him back here to see Daryl." Glennn's bruises were nearly all gone now, almost two weeks after Merle had turned up on their doorsteps, but it was obvious the trauma he'd suffered at Merle's hands wasn't fading as fast.

"I'm sorry, y'all," said Maggie, looking uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to give away where we were."

"No one is blaming you, Maggie," said Rick quickly. "You thought Merle was going to kill Glennn, you did the right thing."

Hershel put his arm around his daughter and gave a little squeeze. "Of course it was the right thing to do, honey. I'm just glad you're both alright."

"I've seen what Merle is capable of," said Maggie tightly, casting a worried look at the tight-lipped Glennn. "I don't feel safe with him around. It's bad enough with all the Walkers. I don't want to be sleepin' with one eye open because one of our own is fixin' to take his revenge on half the group."

"Maggie is right," said Glennn tersely. "Merle can't stay here. He's a loose cannon and we all know it. He has to go."

Daryl's jaw hardened at hearing his brother talked about in that way, but he could really blame folks. He understood their fear, but Merle was blood, and that still meant something. It had to.

Rick's expression was serious. "So, it's decided, we talk to Daryl about Merle and explain-"

"No."

Carol's quiet but authoritative voice had them all looking at her. Her arms were folded in front of herself as she looked back steadily at all of them. "No," she repeated.

"Carol-" began Rick, looking a little exasperated.

"No, Rick," she said determinedly, "you don't have a right, none of us do."

Daryl blinked, looking at Carol with shock, even though none of them could see him.

"Merle's a threat to the group," argued Glennn in frustration.

"We've all been a threat to the group from time to time," said Carol simply. "Merle isn't going anywhere unless Daryl wants him to. It's not up to us."

Rick's tone lowered. "Carol, you know how dangerous Merle can be."

"I do," she said without hesitation, "and I know you and Glennn have extra reason to be side-eyeing him but this is Daryl's brother we're talking about."

"That's the problem," grumbled Glennn.

Hershel looked worried. "Look, I didn't know Merle before with the troubles you had between y'all. However, I can't say I've warmed to the man and even these old eyes can see the tension he brings with him. This group is vulnerable, we've known a lot of loss and if Merle is plannin' on addin' to that, then I don't see how we can let things be."

Carol stood her ground. "You talk about loss, Hershel, then what about Daryl's loss if we throw Merle out of here?"

"It's for the greater good," reasoned Rick. "We have to protect the group."

Carol's chin came up. "Okay, let's talk about protecting the group. You know as well as I do that Daryl has done so much for this group and never asked a single thing in return. He's stood by us all in our time of need, more than once." Carol fixed Rick with a sharp look. "Where would you be without Daryl, Rick? You know you owe him your life and the life of your children a hundred times over."

Rick made a frustrated sound. "This ain't about Daryl. No one is questioning Daryl's place in the group."

"Of course this is about Daryl," bit out Carol. "You're talking about throwing his brother to the wolves. Merle is the only family he has left in the world. We have no right to take that from him."

"Daryl would be better off without him," said Glennn sullenly.

Carol inclined her head a little. "Maybe so, but that's Daryl's decision to make, not ours."

Daryl couldn't take his eyes off Carol as she squared off against the group. Gone was the little mouse he'd first met, the one too scared to voice her opinion on anything. Where was the Carol who hadn't wanted to have to shoulder any responsibility in the decisions of the group, the one who hadn't wanted a say in what to do with Randall? He couldn't believe she was fighting everyone so hard on this. Daryl knew Merle wasn't her favourite person either, so this made her staunch stance on the whole thing even more surprising.

"I'm not going to be a part of something that causes Daryl more loss," she said sharply. "We all owe him this time with his brother."

"Even if it gets us all killed?" asked Glennn angrily.

"Everyone stopping and looking for Sophia could have got us all killed. Lori's pregnancy could have got us all killed." Carol gave them a warning look. "I've got a lot more examples, do you want me to go on?" Everyone in the group looked uncomfortable, not meeting her gaze. "The point is, we pulled together as a group and looked after our own."

"But it didn't do any good," said Maggie emotionally, "not in the end."

Carol's voice was quiet but strong. "It was the right thing to do, regardless of the outcome." She stepped up to Rick, a steely determination in her blue eyes. "You're not going to make Daryl choose, Rick, I'm not going to allow it. This group, it's his home and Merle is his brother, you can't put that on him to choose between the two."

Carl had been silent throughout the whole debate. "Daryl wouldn't leave us?" He looked at them all uncertainly. "Would he?"

"I don't want to put him in a position where we'd find out," said Carol grimly. Her gaze was back on Rick. "We owe Daryl this, Rick. Let him sort this out for himself."

Rick looked torn, his brow heavily furrowed. "Alright," he said at last, "Merle can stay, for now."

Daryl stood up and walked away as he heard protests from Glennn on the matter. He hurried back outside of the cellblock to the waiting Merle. Theirs had been a strange reunion. While Daryl had thought of his brother often and hoped he was alive, to see him standing there hadn't filled Daryl with the feelings he'd expected. It was good to know Merle wasn't dead, but having him suddenly reinserted into his life made Daryl realise just how much things had changed. The thing was though, Merle hadn't seemed to change. At all. He was still the loud, overly confident guy Daryl had grown up with. The only difference was that he was missing a hand but all that same old attitude was still there. It was Daryl who'd changed and it'd caused a few awkward moments between them as they struggled to find their flow with one another again. Trouble was, Daryl was beginning to see their idea of how their relationship should be now was different to each others and that was making for some tense moments.

Merle looked up as Daryl approached him. "Thought you were going for more bolts?"

"Couldn't find `em," lied Daryl curtly, not meeting Merle's eye.

Merle gave him a considered look. "You need to be more careful with your shit, boy."

Daryl strung his crossbow over his shoulder and ignored the reprimand. He glanced out through the fences. "We gotta get going. If we head off to the north as soon as we get out of the gate, we're likely to have a clear run with the Walkers. They don't often come from there." He and Merle had taken to going hunting every day to collect food. It seemed the easiest way to Daryl. With Merle out of the prison for hours on end, it gave the rest of the group some time to get used to the idea. At least that was the plan. Only the plan didn't seem to be working that well from what he'd just listened in on.

Merle bent down and set about organising his hunting equipment. "Looks like Officer Friendly has started up a bit of a pow wow with the tribe," he noted casually, catching Daryl off guard. Merle sent him a knowing look. "What do you reckon, baby brother, you think our invites got lost in the mail?"

Daryl stiffened. Merle always did see more than he let on most times. He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he didn't say anything.

Merle smirked. "I ain't no fool. I knew nobody was gonna welcome me with open arms." He glanced at Daryl. "Ceptin' you, of course."

"You beat on Glennn and stuck a knife in Maggie's face," pointed out Daryl keeping his voice carefully devoid of emotion. "What did you expect?"

"They wouldn't take me to you," said Merle in annoyance. "Hell, what was I supposed to do?" He glared at Daryl. "Whose side you on anyway, boy?"

Daryl's face darkened. "There ain't no more sides, Merle. There are just the Walkers and us now."

Merle's eyes narrowed. "Rick said almost the exact same thing to me on that roof in Atlanta, just before he left me as Walker bait, all chained up and waitin' on death to come a callin'."

"I told you, Merle," said Daryl in frustration, "Rick and the others, we all came back. All you had to do was wait there. Did you really think I'd leave you there?"

"How'd I know they were gonna tell you what happened?" threw back Merle. "Hell, they were just as likely to tell you I got eaten by those sons of bitches and leave it at that."

"But they didn't," said Daryl tightly. "And we came back. Rick-"

"Rick, Rick, Rick," interrupted Merle sarcastically. "You two are quite the love birds these days, ain't ya?"

Daryl gritted his teeth, refusing to be drawn into a fight over the matter. Merle had made no secret of the fact that he didn't approve of Daryl and Rick's friendship. The thing was, Daryl didn't even think of it in terms of a friendship so much. It just was what it was. It was Merle coming back and putting labels on things which made Daryl consider what it was he had with the group. Up until now, there had been no need for naming Daryl's place in the group and Merle's insistence about doing so was putting Daryl on edge. Things had been fine as they were, why did Merle have to complicate everything? The thought caught Daryl off-guard, not used to being critical of Merle. He'd always just accepted his brother for who he was, faults and all. Nowadays though, those faults seemed to be harder to let go of. "We're wastin' time."

Merle inclined his head and indicated over Daryl's shoulder. "Looks like we've got a send off party."

Daryl turned around to see Carol walking towards them. His stomach clenched, instantly anxious at having Carol around Merle for some reason.

She smiled at them both as she walked up. "I brought you some food to take with you." She Carol held out two cans of pressed meat and a can of mixed fruit.

"Well, then, ain't that sweet of you," said Merle with a little smirk. "Thinkin' of us like that."

"We don't need that," said Daryl tersely. "We can find food out in the woods."

Carol continued to hold out the cans. "I know, but in case it's slim pickings and you get caught out overnight, like last week."

"Don't be rude, little brother." Merle took the offered cans and stowed them in his back pack. "I ain't one to say no to food." He gave Carol a broad smile. "Thanks, darlin', nice to know you're worryin' over us."

"I'm worried about the gun you're taking with you," said Carol, straight-faced. "I'd really like that back in one piece. It's my favourite. So, anything I can do to make sure it comes back, than I'm happy to do it."

Merle arched an eyebrow at Daryl over Carol's sass. "Listen to this one, all mouth all of a sudden." He eyed Carol's lips speculatively. "And what a pretty little mouth it is."

Something in Merle's tone set Daryl's nerves on edge and he stiffened.

"It's a couple of cans of food," said Carol dryly. "It's not like I'm offering you one of my kidneys."

Merle gave a snort of laughter at that. "You're funny." He looked to be thinking. "Were you always funny? I don't remember."

A new emotion tightened Daryl's chest as he watched the exchange between the other two. He didn't like that Carol seemed so at ease with Merle and he really didn't like the way his brother was suddenly looking at her. "Are we goin' or not?" he interrupted harshly. "If we're gonna stand around jawin' all day-"

"Calm down, little brother," said Merle casually. "I was just bein' polite to the lady. Ain't no harm in that, is there?" He addressed Carol. "You'll have to forgive my brother, he was raised by wolves, no manners at all."

"I wasn't raised by no one," said Daryl tersely, feeling very defensive all of a sudden. But then, Merle always seemed to have that effect on him.

"Just be careful," Carol cautioned them both.

"Careful is my middle name, ma'am," said Merle, tipping an imaginary hat to her.

"I find that highly unlikely," replied Carol wryly.

Merle chuckled and slung his shotgun over his shoulder. "I'm gonna bring you back an extra squirrel, just for bein' so nice to me." He turned around and started walking.

Carol rolled her eyes. "Be still my beating heart." She saw the way Daryl was looking at her. "What?"

He shook his head, still trying to work out his churning feelings when it came to Carol. Hearing her stand up for him with the others had made Daryl feel really good. Whatever the hell he'd just listened to between Carol and Merle though, not so much. "You workin' with Axel today?"

Carol smiled. "No. Judith has been unsettled today. I think she's comin' down with a bug. Rick asked me to stay with her today."

"Good," said Daryl gruffly. He frowned. "I don't mean 'bout Judith, I meant-"

"I know what you meant," said Carol with another little smile. Her expression became more serious. "You know, you don't have to keep takin' Merle out every day."

He stared at her. "Don't I?"

Carol grimaced. "I know things are tense right now, but avoiding things isn't likely to solve anything. Merle has to find his own way with the group." She put her hand on his arm. "Like you did."

"And if he don't?" asked Daryl, his tone harsher than he'd meant.

"I guess that's up to Merle," said Carol quietly. "I don't reckon anyone can make that man do a damn thing he doesn't want to." She gave him a pointed look. "You're not your brother's keeper, Daryl. What Merle does isn't down to you."

"Ain't it?" he asked intently. "Merle wouldn't be here if it weren't for me."

Carol looked troubled. "Just don't put all this on yourself, okay? You're not alone."

Carol's hand on his arm was comforting and drained some of the tension from Daryl's body. He wanted to tell Carol he knew what she just did for him when Merle's bellowing voice came from the gate.

"Hey, y'all done gossipin', we got some killin' to do!"

Daryl pulled a face. "I gotta go."

Carol arched an eyebrow. "So I hear." She smiled. "Remember what I said, be careful."

"I ain't got myself killed yet," Daryl pointed out, wishing he was better with saying what he wanted to say.

"You make sure and keep it that way," Carol cautioned him. "I'm still owed some whistling lessons," she teased him and then winked.

Daryl couldn't help but smile. "I thought you said you couldn't be taught?"

Carol fixed him with a knowing look. "I have faith," she smiled, "in you."

Daryl couldn't help but feel ridiculously happy at Carol's words but tried not to show it. "I dunno," he said with feigned seriousness, "you're a god awful student."

Carol just shrugged, her lips twitching. "I'm a challenge. I'm told some guys like that." They stared at each other for a moment and this time Daryl was sure Carol could feel the sudden tension between them. She shook her head and gave a self-deprecating laugh, breaking the moment. "Merle's leavin'. You best catch him up."

Daryl nodded, reluctant to leave now. "See you tonight?"

"Count on it."

As Daryl walked away he started to realise just how much he had come to count on just that. He snuck a look over his shoulder to see Carol heading back into the cellblock. Daryl looked back to see Merle far up ahead of him and broke into a trot to catch up, happy to have something to look forward to at the end of the day.

It was a rare thing these days.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N****: Yay, another chapter done. In fact, I've just about finished the next one too, so I'm feeling pretty pleased with myself right now. :D **

**These next two chapters came quite easily and I enjoyed writing them. I don't know if that translates into enjoyment of reading, but I guess that's up to you to decide. This chapter gives Merle's POV for the first time in the story. He's a fun guy to get into the head space of. He's a lot more straight line than a lot of the other characters but I also see him as incredibly devious, which is so much fun to write for. I'm looking forward to his ongoing interactions with the group. **

**Now, due to dialog blow out, this chapter doesn't have Caryl directly – sorry about that, guys. I noticed a lot of you are anxious about their first kiss. I can tell you that I've made a decision on that matter, about how far I'm going to take this fic re: Caryl (I don't think the Caryl fans are going to be disappointed ;) ) but I should warn you, I make my readers work for all the goodness they get. Basically I'm your garden variety tease. I like to bring people to the brink... and then back off. I want you yelling at the computer screen, but not so pissed off that you won't come back again. It's a fine line and to be honest, I love the tease when I've experienced it on shows like X-Files, Haven, Buffy etc. You know something huge is there between the characters and you never know if the next episode is going to give you another crumb to savour. Man, I live for that stuff. LOL Anyways, I do promise pay offs along the way and then an ultimate pay off when it comes to Caryl, so hang in there folks. I do try and make these journeys worthwhile for people. **

**Okay, with all that being said, the chapter after this is going to be all Caryl baby. ;) So, something to look forward to there, but I hope you'll find some enjoyable facets to this chapter as well. **

**See you soon...**

**Chapter Fifteen**

Maggie frowned as she watched Glennn unloading the car from the last run into town. "You okay?" She was worried about him after that meeting this morning.

"Fine," said Glennn tersely, not stopping in what he was doing.

Maggie walked over to him and leaned against the car, a concerned look on her face. "I don't believe you." She put out her hand to stall Glennn removing some bottle of washing liquid. "Will you please talk to me?"

Glennn stopped and shot her an angry look. "What's the point of talking? Rick's already decided how it's going to be."

Maggie sighed. "Look, I ain't happy with Merle stayin' neither, but it is what it is and Carol had a point, we don't have the right to deny Daryl his family."

"And what about our rights?" asked Glennn tersely. "We fought so hard to find this prison and then take it back from the Walkers. It cost us Lori and T-Dog and your Dad's leg and now we're just throwing open the gates to let a lunatic like Merle Dixon stroll in and throw his weight around."

"I know you and Merle got history-"

"The guy wants me dead," bit out Glennn, "and Rick too." His voice caught a little. "He put a knife to your throat, Maggie, I thought I was going to have to watch you die."

Maggie blinked back tears. "Don't." She shook her head. "Don't think like that."

"How can I not?" asked Glennn emotionally. "I can't lose you, Maggie, I just can't." He leaned back at against the car and looked defeated. "This life, if you weren't in it, I don't know what I'd do."

Maggie took his hand and entwined her fingers with his. "I don't know what I'd do without you either," she confessed softly. "But you can't let what happened with Merle eat you up."

"If I can't protect you, then what good am I?" asked Glennn in anguish.

"Hey," she said huskily, "in case you ain't noticed, I can take care of myself, mister."

"But I'm meant to have your back," said Glennn unevenly. "I let Merle get the jump on us and I knew how dangerous he was."

"Both of us let Merle get the jump on us," said Maggie emphatically. "What happened wasn't your fault."

"No," ground out Glennn, "it was Merle on account of him being a sociopath. The way he beat on me was nothing like what he did to T-Dog back in the day. The guy can't be trusted but no one is willing to face up to that fact. They all just want to pretend that we can play happy families like nothing ever happened."

"I think Rick is just trying to do right by Daryl," said Maggie quietly.

"What about us? Don't we give as much to the group?" Glennn's tone was bitter. "Don't we deserve to feel safe in the place we fought so hard for?"

"Please," Maggie pleaded with him, "can't you just let this go. I don't want us all fightin' with one another."

"And that's down to me, is it?" asked Glennn in annoyance. "The Asian guy should just shut his mouth and do as he's told, is that what you want? I got a right to my opinions."

"I know," said Maggie, trying to calm him down, "I know, we all do. It's just that we're all not going to agree all the time and someone has to make the final call." She moved in closer to Glennn and rested her head on his shoulder. "Rick's done right by us so far. I ain't got no reason to think he's not gonna keep on doin' the same." Maggie felt a little tension leave Glennn's body at feeling the comfort of hers.

Glennn rested his lips against the top of her head. "I just don't ever want to lose you," he said hoarsely.

Maggie gave a little smile. "You won't. We'll keep each other safe, no matter what." Glennn didn't reply and Maggie couldn't help the nagging concern that this was a long way from over. She closed her eyes and just prayed that all of this was going to work itself out without anyone getting hurt.

It felt like a slim hope.

**oooOOOOooo**

Merle looked around at the group as everyone silently sat and ate their evening meals, no one really looking at each other. Cutlery rattled against metal bowls as everyone concentrated on their food. The Asian kid was giving him side-eyed dirty looks now and then and it amused Merle no end. He knew he was putting folks on edge and was glad of it. Hell, half of them had left him on a roof to die, they deserved a little discomfort. Merle glanced over in time to see Daryl throw a quick look of his own over his shoulder.

"Carol's with Judith," supplied Beth to the question Daryl hadn't asked. "She's already eaten."

Merle didn't register any emotion but he found it mighty curious that folks seemed to feel the need to update his brother on the whereabouts of Carol all the time. Since hooking up with Daryl again, Merle had been intent on getting the lay of the land and he wasn't loving everything he saw.

"How's ass-kicker?" asked Daryl.

"Still a bit feverish," replied Rick, "but Carol seems to think the worst of it is over."

Daryl nodded his approval of that and everyone went back to eating in silence.

Merle looked around at them all again. "You folks ain't big on the fun, are you? I've been to more lively funerals."

"You don't know the half of it," complained Axel.

"Shut up, dumb ass," said Daryl tersely.

Merle arched an eyebrow. "My brother don't seem to like you, Axel. What have you gone and done to get his dander up?"

Axel screwed up his face and looked hard done by. "Just because I accidentally hurt Carol two or three times-"

"Three times?" repeated Daryl sharply, giving him a death glare.

"Two times," gulped Axel, backtracking as fast as he could. "I meant two times." Daryl's look just hardened even more and it was enough to cause Axel to confess all. "Okay, I may have _accidentally_ tripped her the other day," he continued on hastily, "but it was an accident, I swear!"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" growled Daryl, looking completely pissed off.

Merle side-eyed his brother with interest. It was rare to see Daryl so het up about too much. And over a woman no less. This was very curious, particularly to think that woman was Carol. Merle hadn't given her a second look when they'd first formed the group. She was the cowering shadow to that idiot husband of hers, Ted or Ned, something like that. The woman wouldn't have said shit to no one 'bout anything back then. Now Carol seemed to have a lot of opinions and the ear of not only his brother, but Rick as well. Merle hadn't missed noticing how much Rick seemed to rely on Carol with his latest young 'un. The dynamics in the group had definitely changed but just how strong these newfound allegiances were was what had Merle really thinking, especially when it came to Daryl. He wasn't used to his brother having any kind of loyalty to anyone but him. Merle didn't like the shift in the relationship between them. Something had to be done about that right quick.

"I went to move an axe out of Carol's way when she was comin' down the stairs as she went to step over it and well, she kinda lost her balance," said Axel unhappily. "It wasn't my fault. I was tryin' to help her."

"Now she fell down the stairs?" asked Daryl in disbelief. "When the hell did this happen?"

Axel grimaced. "Last week. Carol landed on the washing she was carrying. She told me she was fine."

Daryl looked like he was about to lose his shit but Rick stepped in. "Axel."

"Ah, yes?" replied Axel hesitantly.

"Until future notice, stay away from Carol. Don't try to help her, don't be anywhere in her vicinity. You got that?"

"I don't know why these things keep happenin' with us," whined Axel. "It ain't my fault."

"It's your fault cause you're a dumb ass," bit out Daryl angrily.

"I think it's all the sexual tension between Carol and me," concluded Axel blithely. "I read somewhere that can make accidents happen round people."

"Holy shit, man," said Oscar, shaking his head and concentrating on his food, "you really are a dumb son of a bitch."

Hershel levelled him with a calm look. "Son, I recommend you stop talkin', for your own good and on account of none of us are lookin' to be cleanin' blood offa the walls tonight."

Axel huddled over his food, a sulking expression set on his face. "It ain't my fault," he muttered to himself. "I can't help it if I ooze sexuality."

Glennn rolled his eyes. "Dude, seriously, the only thing you're going to be oozing if you don't shut up, is brain matter."

Axel looked Merle, obviously hoping for someone on his side. "You're right," he said sullenly, "these ain't fun people."

"Maybe not," agreed Merle easily, "but you are definitely a dumb ass, boy." There was more eating in silence until Merle caught Axel staring at his stump, now covered in metal. "Somethin' wrong?" he asked curtly.

Axel looked taken aback. "I don't mean to stare."

"Then don't," Merle advised him with a warning look.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Dear God in heaven," sighed Oscar, shaking his head. "Leave the man be, Axel. It ain't none of your business."

Merle eyed Axel. "What's the question, boy?"

"I seen the knife attachment for that thing," observed Axel, nodding at Merle's stump. "You got others?"

Merle arched an eyebrow, feeling the increased tension in the group at the mention of his hand, or rather, the lack of. "Others?"

"Yeah, like a fork or spoon for eatin' or somethin'," said Axel. "I reckon that'd be mighty handy." He paused. "You know, so to speak."

"Would anyone like more beans?" asked Beth hastily, clearly looking to change the subject. Everyone ignored her.

Merle could feel all the eyes of the group on him, but he didn't take his gaze off Axel. "I guess I never figured a spork rated real high in keepin' myself alive," drawled Merle calmly.

Rick was looking at him intently. "On that note, Merle, do you mind tellin' us just how you did manage to survive out there, all by yourself?" His gaze hardened. "I mean, you are by yourself, ain't ya?"

Merle faced Rick, a pleasant smile on his lips which didn't reach his eyes. He'd been expecting this. The only surprise was the interrogation had taken this long to come. "Do you see anyone else with me, Rick?" The way Merle said his name, it was anything but friendly.

"That doesn't answer the question," noted Glennn, his expression hardening. "How did you survive all by yourself all this time? It doesn't seem possible."

"Old Merle is a survivor," he said casually. "I survived. That's how that works."

Rick wasn't letting it go. "Yeah, but how?"

A cool smile twisted Merle's lips. "A magician don't reveal his tricks."

"They do here," said Glennn coldly. "We don't have any secrets in the group."

Merle snorted his amusement. "Come on, Mr. Miyagi, you don't seriously believe that, do you?"

Glennn's eyes narrowed, his jaw hardening. Hershel put a calming hand on the young man's arm, but Glennn didn't even seem to notice. "That's not my name."

Merle shrugged, not caring. "Whatever. My point is that everyone has secrets and you're a fool to think otherwise."

"And what would your secrets be, Merle?" asked Rick tersely.

"Am I under arrest, Officer Friendly?" asked Merle sweetly. "Do I get my one phone call or is straight to the sack full of doorknobs routine?"

"I just asked a simple question," said Rick, keeping his voice even and controlled. "How did you survive out there, by yourself?"

"We Dixons are survivors," threw out Merle casually. "Tell them, baby brother."

Daryl looked uncomfortable as he kept his eyes on his food. "I told them, no one was gonna be the end of you 'ceptin' you."

Merle sent him an impressed look. "Why, that's mighty profound of you, boy." He mulled over the words and gave a satisfied nod of his head. "I reckon that's about right, too."

"So, you're expecting us to believe that you somehow managed to survive, on your own, after losing all that blood?" asked Rick, his gaze hardening. "You may be good, Merle, but you ain't Batman. No one could have survived that on their own."

"Batman," chuckled Merle, "I like that." He gave Rick a considered look. "Okay, I had help, in the beginn' at least. This old man and his daughter came across me near dead, just outside of Atlanta. They took me in and nursed me back to health."

"What were their names?" asked Rick intently.

"Graham and Viola Kennedy." The names rolled off his tongue easily.

Rick kept staring at him. "Where are they now?"

"Dead," said Merle simply. He smirked at Rick's expression. "Relax, I didn't kill 'em, why would I? It's not like they left me chained to a roof to be Walker bait after all." He held Rick's gaze unflinchingly after that little dig. "Nope, they were good people. Unfortunately they weren't real fast runners. Walkers got them a couple of weeks after they found me."

"But you survived?" queried Glennn harshly.

"Well, obviously," said Merle, making a sweeping gesture down his body. "I'm here, ain't I?"

"So what, the rest of the time you just wandered around on your own?" asked Rick, he didn't look convinced about the story Merle was telling.

"Pretty much."

Rick looked him over. "You look pretty well fed for a guy who went it on his own."

"I only had one mouth to feed. It ain't that hard when you're only looking out for yourself."

"Well, son, that ain't how things work 'round here," injected Hershel. "We're family and we all look out for each other."

"I only got one family member," said Merle coolly, "and that's my little brother here. Blood is born into, it ain't bestowed by y'all sittin' round the camp fire singin' 'Kumbaya My Lord' and roastin' marshmallows."

Hershel wasn't fazed. "You're right, it's not the same, what we have is stronger."

Merle's expression hardened at the old man's challenging of him.

"Blood is an accident of birth," said Hershel steadily. "We don't get no say in the matter, we don't earn it." He nodded at the group. "What we have is bought and paid for with blood, sweat and a whole lot of tears. Things hard won send down deeper roots than something given freely."

Merle's eyes narrowed. "Is that right?" he asked coldly.

Hershel gave a small nod. "Most times. I ain't takin' away from what you have with your brother, Merle. Family is important, it creates bonds that shapes us in this world but that don't negate the bonds we've made here, within the group." He leant back in his chair, voice calm as he continued on. "The different bonds we all share, they don't have to be in competition," Hershel's gaze didn't flinch, "unless we choose for them to be." He shook his head. "And there ain't no good that can come of that, son."

Merle felt a deep anger well up inside of him at this old man thinking he could school him in front of everyone else. It annoyed him that Daryl wasn't saying anything in amongst all of this back and forth but Merle knew he had to play this smart. He wasn't a trusted member of the group and didn't want to weaken his position here by being overly antagonistic. At least, not yet. He forced a cool smile on his lips. "I reckon you're right, Hershel," said Merle evenly. "Both are important and there ain't no competition, at least not from where I'm sittin'." He looked over at Rick and smiled. "Right, Officer Friendly?"

Rick returned his smile coolly. "That's right."

Merle returned to his food, knowing that his words weren't believed by anyone. Good. He wanted these people nervous and second-guessing everything. He was owed by them and Merle wasn't done having fun with them yet, not by a long ways. A real smile touched Merle's lips as he shovelled a forkful of beans into his mouth. The old man was all high and mighty about these so-called bonds they shared, well, Merle was going to see just how deep they really ran when push came to shove.

And if there was one thing Merle Dixon knew how to do, it was how to shove.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N****: Hey guys, next chapter. :)**

**I had a lot of fun writing this, but the devil's own time trying to end the Caryl scene. I hate it when I can't wrap scenes up – mucho annoying. **

**Anyways, I hope you'll enjoy it. It's overly indulgent, but what the heck. LOL And you can actually thank the people who reviewed a couple of chapters ago and were eager to see Carol and Daryl meet up later like they promised in Chapter 14, for this chapter. I wasn't actually going to not have a scene of them meeting up later, after Daryl was back from the hunt with Merle, but seeing as people wanted it, I was happy to oblige. ;) And like I said, I had fun with it. Banter is my drug of choice when it comes to writing, so I'm always ecstatic to get a chance to do that. **

**Busy couple of days coming up, but I'll do my best to get the next chapter to you as soon as I can. Thanks as always for reading. :D **

**Chapter Sixteen**

Carol lay on her back on top of the bus they normally did guard duty for the front gate from. She looked up into the night sky and smiled at the velvety heavens laid out before her and the winking stars littering them. Carol had to confess she didn't mind these late night guard duty stints. It was quiet and the Walkers, while more active, seemed less vocal. It was probably because folks weren't moving around inside the prison as much and getting them all stirred up. Looking after Judith that day, Carol had been able to sleep when the little girl had slept, so she actually felt refreshed for her turn at the midnight to six in the morning shift. It was easy to enjoy the serenity of the moment during the quiet of these post-midnight hours and just let your thoughts wander. The quiet was the reason she was able to hear his footsteps coming up on her long before she felt the bus dip a little from Daryl's weight, as he climbed up to stand on the roof. He wasn't due to take over the shift for at least another three hours but Carol wasn't surprised that Daryl had sought her out earlier. With Merle back in his life, Daryl spent a great deal of his time with his brother but neither one of them wanted to give up their time together. It was an unspoken agreement that they'd still find time for one another, one of many silent understandings between them.

Carol knew it wasn't all about making up for lost time for Daryl when it came to Merle. She knew Daryl just wanted everyone to get along and was torn between the two worlds he'd found himself belonging to. One was the world of just Merle and him, the two brothers against all the shit the world threw at him. The other world was the one this group had forged for himself and Daryl had two very different roles in both realities. For his sake, Carol hoped Daryl would get his wish and find a way to marry the two and make it all work, but she had her doubts. Merle wasn't about to make this easy on anyone, least of all the brother he claimed to love so much. It annoyed Carol that Merle could be such a hypocrite but for Daryl's sake, she hadn't called him on it yet. Though, if Merle kept it up, she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold her tongue. Carol was finding she was getting used to speaking her mind. It was kind of addictive. She smiled up at Daryl. "Hey."

Daryl frowned as he looked down at her. "You fall or somethin'?" he asked.

"No."

He looked her over. "Ain't you meant to be on guard duty?"

"Yes."

Daryl pursed his lips and his eyes ran over her again. "You're doin' it wrong."

Carol's lips twitched at Daryl repeating her words from a couple of weeks ago back at her. "You're hysterical."

"It's the company I keep," came the straight-faced reply.

Carol gave a little laugh. "Cute."

"So?"

"So, what?"

"So, why are you lying on your back like that? You feelin' sick or somethin'? You're not comin' down with the same thing Judith's got are you?"

Carol heard the note of concern in Daryl's voice and couldn't help but be touched by it. At first glance it was really easy to dismiss Daryl as a hardened, thoughtless roughneck, but it didn't take long to realise that he was far more sensitive and aware than his rough outward appearance first suggested. "No, I'm fine. I was just standing here, on guard duty and then I suddenly realised, I couldn't remember the last time I looked up."

Daryl looked confused. "Looked up?"

"Yes, you know, just stopped and took in your surroundings rather than just surviving moment to moment."

Daryl rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Ain't much point in lookin' up. Walkers ain't great climbers, they never attack from above."

"Not everything in life has to be about Walkers, that's my point," Carol commented. They shared a look. "Okay, not everything in life _should_ be about Walkers," she corrected herself. "I'm made myself a new year's resolution-"

"Ain't it nearly July?"

"Shut up," said Carol, not missing a beat, "it's a figurative new year's resolution."

"You mean made up."

She tilted her head back so she could send him and exasperated look. "You remember I know how to use this gun now, right?"

"You still ain't that great a shot," he dead-panned.

"At this distance I was planning on just clubbing you with it." Carol's eyes sparkled as she threatened him, letting Daryl know she was in no way bothered by his arguing with her. "Are you going to let me finish this thought or not?"

"If it's the only way I can get you to shut up, sure."

"You love that I talk."

"I put up with it, you mean."

Carol reached out and slapped his leg. "Liar. Lay down."

"What?" Daryl sounded like she'd caught him off-guard.

"Lay down next to me," she instructed him. "I'm including you in my new year's resolution. It's your punishment for sassin' me."

"You can't make someone else do your new year's resolution," protested Daryl.

"You remember I still got the gun, right?" Carol sent him a pointed look. "You can come and lay down next to me under your own steam, or there can be blood lettin' involved. Your choice, Daryl."

Daryl put an annoyed expression on his face which Carol didn't buy for a moment. "Why are women so bossy?" he grumbled even as he lay down on his back. Their feet were pointing in opposite directions but their heads were side by side.

"Because men are so slow," shot back Carol cheekily. She turned to look at his upside down face. "Now, look up."

Daryl looked up at the inky night sky. "It's the sky," he commented. "I seen it before."

"Yes, but when was the last time you really _looked_ at the sky?"

"It's the sky, what's there to see?"

Carol made an exasperated sound. "Doesn't looking at the sky kinda put everything in perspective for you? Doesn't it make your realise how vast the universe is and how our troubles are just this little speck of dust, caught on the wind?"

Daryl side-eyed her. "You been drinkin'?"

She groaned. "I'm trying to be whimsical. Haven't you ever just stopped to be whimsical every now and then?" Daryl just continued to stare at her, not saying anything. "Okay," Carol relented, "that may have been a stupid question."

Daryl snorted. "Ya think?"

"Alright," said Carol, undeterred, "you're never too late to learn some whimsy."

Daryl was side-eyeing her again. "You sure you ain't got yourself a fever?"

"I'm trying to get you to embrace your inner child, Daryl."

He blanched. "Why?"

"It's good for you, it's good for all of us," said Carol firmly. "Everything is always so grim and life and death around here, we should take the chance to breathe when we can." She looked up at the sky and let out a long breath. "You know, all those years with Ed," said Carol softly, "it was like I'd fallen into this deep sleep. I just kept putting one foot in front of the other and I didn't even know why. Then Sophia came along and I had my reason but I was still mostly asleep." She lifted a hand and waved it around vaguely. "And then all of this happened and it was like I was slapped awake." Pain coloured her face. "Too late to be of any use to Sophia," said Carol quietly.

"Don't," Daryl chastised her in that gravelly voice of his, his tone low and quietly pleading.

Carol gave a sad smile. "It's true." She turned her head and looked at Daryl. "But I can still be of use to people. I'm awake now and I don't want to go back to how I was. I want to make a difference. I want my life to mean something because none of us know how long we've got." Carol frowned. "I guess we never did but now there is no pretending otherwise." Daryl wasn't saying anything, just looking at her intently. Carol smiled at him. "That's why I wanted to stop and look up," she said softly. "I wanted to remember I'm still here, that I'm alive and I've got people in my life that I'd die fightin' for." She searched his face. "That's not nothin', is it?"

"No," he rasped, "that ain't nothin'."

"This is the first time in my life that I've actually felt useful. Like I matter." Carol paused at that thought. She rolled it around in her head. "I matter," she repeated in awe.

"Of course, you do," said Daryl gruffly. "You matter to me." Carol turned to look at him and Daryl continued on hastily. "I mean to me and everyone else in the group."

She studied him curiously. It was odd, but even as their friendship deepened and they shared more truths between each other, there was also these moments of awkwardness that Carol hadn't been expecting. Daryl's eyes flicked away from hers, looking up at the sky again and studiously avoiding her. Carol rolled onto her side and propped up her head with her hand, looking down at Daryl intently. She'd told him things she'd never told another living soul. It was true what she'd said to him once, they had secrets and those secrets bound them together in a way that she didn't have with anyone else in the group. Carol had never known real intimacy and yet she was finding it with a dirt-covered redneck with a crossbow. The world certainly was a strange one now. "You're filthy," she noted absently, taking in all the dirt streaking his face. "When was the last time you took a bath?"

He did look at her, a scowl on his face. "What's it to you? A bath ain't no use anyways, you only end up gettin' dirty again."

Carol couldn't help but smile as she chastised him gently, still looking down at him. "You argue like a five year old," she said in amusement.

His scowl deepened. "I ain't a kid. I don't need a mamma tellin' me what to do."

"No," she agreed readily, "what you need is a bath." Carol gave him a considered look. "But I know why you don't want to."

Daryl sent her a disgruntled look. "Is that right?"

"You like bein' the dirtiest one of all of us. It's like a badge of honour for you." Daryl gave her a shocked look but Carol continued on blithely. "I reckon you think the dirtier you are, the more you've earned your place with us all." She cocked her head a little. "Which you know is crazy, right? You've earned your place with us many times over and a bit of dirt, or lack thereof, isn't going to change anything."

"You're crazy," said Daryl hoarsely, but Carol could see she'd struck a chord.

Without thinking, Carol reached out and dragged her finger down Daryl's cheek. "What's crazy is the amount of dirt on your face. You could plant potatoes in all of that." She grimaced. "Oh God, now that really was a mom thing to say."

Daryl looked a little flustered. "Was it? I don't know, all my mom used to say was 'Daryl, get your lazy ass off the sofa and fetch me my cigarettes from the store'."

Carol made a sad face. "You deserved so much better, Daryl," she said quietly. "Better parents, a better brother."

Daryl looked at her askew. "I thought you liked Merle."

"I'm working on not hating him," she confessed wryly. "I don't know if that's the same thing."

Daryl frowned. "But you two, yesterday, before we went out huntin'-"

"Yes?"

"You were, ah, you know."

Carol wrinkled her nose and tried to remember what she'd said to Merle. Nothing special was coming to mind. "What are you talking about?" she quizzed him in confusion.

"You two were flirtin'." Daryl's mouth turned down as he said that.

Carol couldn't help but laugh. "Flirting?" she repeated in disbelief. "You think Merle and me were flirting?"

"Don't laugh at me," growled Daryl, looking unhappy.

"I'm not," Carol chuckled, "I'm laughing at the thought of Merle and me." She rolled her eyes. "Jesus wept, what a notion."

"He can be charmin' when he wants," said Daryl, pushing the point for some reason. "A lot of women fall for him."

"Yeah, well, I'm not drunk or mentally unstable, so I don't see me falling for Merle any time soon," she said dryly. Carol looked at him curiously. "You didn't really think I was interested in Merle, did you?"

Daryl moved a little uncomfortably, not looking at her again. "I told you, women like him."

Carol shook her head. "No accounting for taste, I guess."

Daryl looked happy all of a sudden but then the scowl was back. "Why didn't you tell me dumb ass pushed you down the stairs last week?"

"Axel didn't push me, he accidentally tripped me and I didn't tell you because I didn't want you fixin' to kill him," she said simply.

"Why should you care?" he asked in annoyance.

"Cause I like him."

Daryl's eyes widened. "I thought you said you weren't mentally unstable. What the hell do you like about that dumb ass?"

Carol shrugged. "I don't know. I guess he's uncomplicated and you're never really in the dark as to what he's thinking at any given moment."

"That's because he's got shit for brains and that's all that comes outta his mouth, nonstop," said Daryl in disapproval. He glared at Carol. "You stay away from him. I swear, he's gonna kill you one of these days."

Carol gave a little smile. "I will," she pursed her lips thoughtfully, "if you promise to have a bath at some point in the next week."

"That ain't fair," complained Daryl.

"I know," sighed Carol, "but I guess there is nothing to be done 'bout it." She nudged him with her elbow. "How was dinner?"

"Beans."

"You know that isn't what I meant."

"It was like we were the Brady Bunch at Christmas," said Daryl sarcastically.

"That bad, huh?"

"No one is happy Merle is back," said Daryl tightly.

"Are you?"

Daryl frowned at her. "What kind of question is that, woman? He's my brother."

"That's not an answer," she noted gently.

Daryl didn't speak for a long moment. "I'm glad he's not dead," said Daryl at last.

"But?"

"But nothin'. I'm glad Merle is alive."

"But it was simpler when he wasn't around, right?"

Daryl didn't answer, just stared up at the sky. Carol studied his face and had a sudden impulse to kiss away the frown lines on his forehead, hating to see Daryl in turmoil like this. The wayward thought shocked her, as did the surge of warmth through her body at the thought of kissing Daryl, even if it was on the forehead. Carol scrambled to her feet abruptly, heart pounding erratically.

Daryl propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her in concern. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," said Carol hastily. She felt stupid for over-reacting so violently. No wonder Daryl was looking at her like she was crazy. "I-I-umm, something bit me," she lied.

Daryl stood up. "What?"

"I don't know," said Carol distractedly. "Something bitey."

Daryl's eyes swept her body. "Where were you bit?"

Carol blinked. "Um, my neck, but it's nothing. I'm fine now."

Daryl stepped closer and was peering at her neck. He reached out a hand and ran it along the length of the delicate flesh. Carol flinched away from the feeling of Daryl's calloused hands on her sensitive skin. It felt too good. She didn't want him to feel the way her pulse was racing erratically. Oh no, this couldn't be happening. Daryl was the best thing that had happened in her life for a long time. Carol couldn't bear the thought of messing up what they had simply because she all of a sudden remembered she was a woman and he was a man. She wasn't in high school anymore. Her life didn't need this kind of juvenile drama.

He scowled. "Did that hurt?"

"Your hands are cold." Carol couldn't keep on lying like this. She gave a little laugh and shook her head. "It's fine, crisis has passed." Carol went to step back, forgetting the fact she was now so close to the edge of the bus. Her foot didn't connect with anything and she felt herself falling when Daryl quickly grabbed the waistband of her pants and pulled her back. Their bodies bumped against each other as Daryl pulled her towards him.

His other arm wrapped itself around her waist. "Careful," he admonished her, "you nearly went over the edge."

Carol couldn't help but gave a choked laugh at that_. If only he knew_. "Sorry," she apologised, still trying to cover this unexpected awareness of Daryl. It was one thing to have what happened in town that day when they were trapped in that crawl space. Carol really hadn't taken that seriously because that was what happened to men's bodies in that situation. It wasn't personal, it could have just as easily have happened with Maggie. Hell, it could have happened with Glennn. She hadn't given it a second thought beyond enjoying teasing Daryl about it. The last thing Carol had expected was to feel that way about Daryl in any capacity. This was just a moment of weakness, she concluded. Something about lying out looking at the stars with a man making her overly hormonal. That had to be it because anything more between her and Daryl would be crazy. They just weren't those kinds of people and Carol knew Daryl was only looking for friendship from her, just like that was all she was looking for from him. Carol didn't know where this moment of madness had come from, but she was determined it wasn't going to happen again.

Daryl was looking at her in real concern now. "What's wrong? You dizzy or somethin'?"

"I stood up too quick, is all," said Carol, promising herself that was the last lie of the night.

Daryl looked unconvinced. "Come on, I'm takin' you to Hershel so he can check you out."

"No." That was a little louder than Carol had intended. She lowered her voice. "No, there is no need. I feel fine now." Carol put a bright smile on her lips. "Why don't you try and get a few more hours sleep?" She was acutely conscious of them still standing so close that their bodies were touching, Daryl's arm still wrapped around her. "It'll be sun up before you know it." And hopefully the disappearing night would take all these unwanted feelings with it.

"I'm stayin'," said Daryl firmly. "You need watchin' out for."

When Daryl had grabbed at her waistband as Carol had been about to fall, her t-shirt pulled out of her waistband and now one of Daryl's finger was resting directly against the flesh of her stomach. It was the tiniest of touches, but it was having a big impact on her. She kept the smile on her face, not wanting Daryl to think she'd lost anymore of her mind than he already did. "You can probably let me go now." A part of Carol hoped Daryl would argue with her. The stupid, reckless part which had no place in her life these days.

Daryl blinked and didn't immediately respond but then he was dropping the arm around Carol's waist but he still had a hold of her waistband. His eyes were intent on her face. "If I let go, are you likely to fall?" he asked gruffly.

It was more likely she was going to fall if he didn't let her go. Carol couldn't stop the disturbingly true thought flittering through her head. Carol was surprised at Daryl's reluctance to let her go. She must really look like a crazy woman tonight. "I'm not going to fall," she said determinedly, more to herself than to Daryl.

Daryl slowly let go and stepped back, watching her carefully.

Carol was looking to put things back on an even keel between them, at least from her perspective. "I think that's enough looking up for one night," she said firmly. "I think I should just keep my eyes on the ground for the next little while."

Daryl was giving her worried looks and Carol put her attention out to the fences and the distraction of the wandering Walkers outside their boundaries. She was conscious of the way Daryl was still looking at her and her stomach rolled over nervously. Carol cursed herself for her stupidity. Oh yes, she definitely needed to keep her eyes on the ground from here on out. No good could come from looking up again.

**oooOOOOooo**

Merle rested his back against the brick wall of the cellblock, looking out across the field to the couple standing on top of the bus. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but their body language shouted out to anyone who cared to listen. Merle had never seen Daryl so comfortable around a woman. Watching them first lie on top of the bus together, and then they stood up and seemed to be cuddling or kissing or something. Merle wasn't opposed to his little brother having a little fun with the nearest warm, soft thing he could get his hands on. Hell, it was the end of the world, may as well get what you can while you could.

Nope, Merle wasn't bothered by his brother getting laid but the trouble was, he had this instinct that this wasn't about sex. There was an intimacy that lay between those two that didn't come from a quick fuck behind the prison block. There was something else there, something harder to define and ran deeper than mere bodily release. It bothered Merle seeing Daryl whisper his secrets to that woman rather than him. There was a time when Merle was that boy's whole world. Nowadays, it felt more like he was an inconvenience. Merle was still working out who was to blame for that, but after watching him tonight with Carol, he was beginning to have a good idea. These people were working on turning his own brother against him and Merle wasn't going to stand for that shit. Daryl was his brother and blood was always going to run deeper than anything this group could offer him, no matter what that old man said and Merle was going to make sure everyone knew that.

Especially his baby brother.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N****: Finally got another chapter done. Been so busy at work, plus I'm on a deadline for another fic which has turned out bigger than I expected, so this story got to the bottom of the queue for a few days. But, managed to get a chapter done today, so yay me! LOL **

**Thank you to all the positive responses to the last chapter. I thought the Caryl shippers would have fun with that, even though I was being a total tease. ;) This chapter I've had a lot of fun with Merle. The guy is just so pernicious, I love it! He's like the snake in the hen house, just slithering around, creating all these little pockets of tension. That's what makes Merle so interesting to me in my head. He's very in your face, but he can also be very sly and calculating. That's a dangerous mix, which the group is going to find out soon enough. **

**One of my reviewers commented Merle is acting more like a jealous husband when it comes to Daryl then a brother and I think that's a really good observation. There was a dominance/submissive play with the older/younger brother dynamic and Merle is very used to Daryl falling into line when he's around. Seeing Daryl with divided loyalties kind of strikes at the core of Merle's manhood, IMO. Daryl is meant to always chose Merle over everyone else, like he's always done. If Daryl isn't doing that, then Merle is bound to find that upsetting, particularly when Daryl is sharing his loyalties with people that Merle feels have actively wronged him. The old 'woman scorned' adage seems kinda apt here. LOL **

**Anyways, serpentine Merle is at work in this chapter, as is piggy in the middle Daryl, so I hope you have some fun with the dynamics of it all. I know I did. Weirdly enough, Merle is a really engaging headspace to get into for me and I'm intending to give the guy some pathos as well, so it's not all one note evil as well. Good times. **

**Okay, off to work on my other fic and hopefully I won't be as long in updating with the next chapter. **

**Chapter Seventeen**

Merle straightened up from working on his bike out into the courtyard, just in time to see Beth send Carl a sweet smile as she walked by with a pile of freshly dried laundry. Her smile slipped a little at seeing Merle and she sent him a nervous smile, before hurrying past. Merle watched her go and then looked back at Carl to see he was still smiling. "She's a pretty girl," he commented, strolling over to the boy and wiping his hand on an oily rag. "I reckon she's got a bit of a sweet spot for you."

Carl's face brightened a little. "You do?" He seemed to catch himself then, and a guarded look took over his face.

"Well, sure, it's obvious," said Merle casually. He gave Carl an interested look. "You doin' somethin' 'bout that, boy?"

Carl frowned. "We're friends."

"That don't mean you can't be more, if you wanted," reasoned Merle.

"I don't want," said Carl tightly. He looked over his shoulder. "I gotta go. My Dad and me are going to check out the south fence and make sure our repair job is holdin'."

"In that case you'd best run along." Merle smiled. "Don't want to keep your daddy waitin', now do we?" Carl gave him a wary look before starting to walk past Merle to get to the exit for the courtyard. Merle wasn't done yet. "I just wanted you to know that I think you and Beth are a good idea."

Carl stopped and looked at him hesitantly. "I'm too young for her."

Merle snorted. "Age, what's that, a number? Besides, I reckon numbers don't matter anymore these days. I mean, my brother is a lot older than Beth, but I seen how she is with him too."

Carl's eyes went wide. "What?"

Merle hid his smile at the reaction he knew he'd get. "Settle down, boy, I ain't sayin' anythin' is goin' on, but a pretty girl like that, she's used to male attention." He scratched his chest distractedly. "And when you're young, you talk yourself in and out of love all the time. I reckon that sweet little girl is lookin' for a man to take care of her and my brother, he knows how to take care of business. Things like that can turn a girl's head, 'specially these days."

"Beth isn't in love with Daryl," said Carl, but there was an element of uncertainty to his declaration that Merle seized on it.

"Sure, not now, but unless someone gives her a reason to look elsewhere, then maybe she'll have herself convinced that he's the one for her."

Carl shook his head emphatically. "Daryl doesn't think of Beth in that way."

"Maybe not, but you know, a man's got needs. You're old enough to understand that. Sometimes things happen because they can, not because it was decided on." Merle waved his hand about. "Look, I ain't fixin' to cause any trouble, I'm just tellin' you what I see." He glanced back over his shoulder. "If you like Beth, then you should tell her."

"I did and she just wants to be friends." Carl looked stricken at his blurted confession and looked away abruptly.

"Ah, I see," said Merle calmly. He shrugged. "She said no, what's the big deal? Hell, women change their minds more often then they change their panties. No don't always mean no when it comes out of a woman's mouth and it sure as shit doesn't mean no forever, trust me on that, boy." Merle moved in closer to Carl, his voice low. "You just need to show her you're the man for her and she'll change her mind. A woman likes to know a man can take care of her, knows how to protect her." He paused, face becoming serious. "I heard what happened with your momma." Merle shook his head. "That weren't right what happened, but you stepped up, Carl. You manned up and did what had to be done. Women respect that kind of forcefulness in a man." He gave a little laugh as he looked Carl over. "You remind me of me a little bit, you know that?

Carl looked at him surprise. "I do?" he asked sceptically.

Merle inclined his head. "Sure, folks like us, we know what needs to be done and just do it. Now, I ain't sayin' nothin' against your daddy, but he thinks too much, puts too much emotion in everything. You did what you had to do with your mom and it ain't right for anyone to blame you for it."

"Dad blames me for what happened?" asked Carl, voice breaking a little.

"I ain't sayin' that, boy," said Merle quickly. "I'm just sayin', I think, sometimes, when he looks at you, he sees you doin' what he can't and I reckon it must bug him. And then there is the whole-" He stopped abruptly.

"Whole what?" asked Carl in concern.

Merle grimaced and feigned reluctance to continue on. "I reckon I've said enough."

Carl scowled. "No, go on, what were you gonna say?"

Merle rubbed his hand on pants and put his attention back to his bike. "You know, this ain't the first Triumph Bonneville I owned. Nope, I had a beautiful 1969 T100 I built up from scratch. She was a thing of beauty and I loved every polished line of her." He smiled at the memory of how great that bike had been but then pulled a face. "I was seein' this woman at the time, Clarisse. She was the closest I ever came to thinkin' bout gettin' married. I loved her, I could see a future for us and I don't say that easy." He looked at Carl. "Women and me, well, I'm usually too much for just one of them, but Clarisse had me figured out and you know what, I didn't even care." Merle gave a little laugh at the memory. It all seemed so long ago. "Anyways, the stupid bitch backed her car over my Bonneville one day, bent the frame all to shit. It wasn't worth a damn after that. Every time I'd look at her face, all I'd see is my bike, all mangled on the ground. We broke up. I couldn't be 'round her and not think about what she'd taken from me." He shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't fair of me, but it was how I felt and a man can't help how he feels."

Carl had a pensive look on his face. "Do-do you think my dad hates me for what I did to Mom? That when he looks at me, all he sees is me shootin' her?"

"Now, boy, don't go blowin' things out of proportion," said Merle casually. "I told you what happened with me, I ain't sayin' your daddy is the same way. It just might explain why-"

"Why what?"

Merle made a reluctant face. "See, I don't know if it's bein' on the outside and comin' in, but it seems to me, your daddy don't give you the due he oughta. You've proved yourself a man, you should be allowed the opinions and say of a man. He don't listen to what you have to say on makin' decisions, does he?"

Carl's face darkened into a scowl and he didn't respond.

Merle gave him a knowing look. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

Rick suddenly appeared in the doorway of the courtyard with Daryl behind him. Rick scowled to see Merle alone with his son. "Carl, what are you doin' here? I was waitin' on you." His tone was sharp.

Carl looked a little defensive. "I was comin'."

Rick sent Merle a suspicious look. "Alright, then come." He inclined his head, indicating they were going. Carl walked over to him.

"Good talkin' with you, boy," offered up Merle as the two turned around to leave. That earned him a scowl from Rick as he looked back over his shoulder at Merle. Merle couldn't help but chuckle as the two left.

Daryl was over by the bike, looking it over. "What are you doin'?"

Merle turned his attention back to Daryl. "Cleanin' it. The pipes were all clogged up with dirt and dust." He walked over to stand by the bike. "You didn't look after my bike worth a shit."

Daryl's lips thinned. "There were more pressin' matters, like not gettin' eaten."

Merle snorted. "Whatever. You never did look after your stuff."

"I ain't never had stuff to look after," countered Daryl tersely.

Merle looked him over. "What bug has flown up your ass today, boy?"

Daryl shook his head and looked away. "Nothin'."

"Nothin'?"

Daryl looked back at him, expression hard to read. "Yeah, nothin'."

Merle had a suspicion that Daryl wanted to tell him not to talk to Carl, but wasn't prepared to say it, not wanting to look like he was on Rick's side. It didn't matter to Merle if Daryl said it out loud or not, the point was he was looking out for Rick and not for his own brother. The thought burned him and Merle looked over at the doorway Rick and Carl had just disappeared through. "Officer Friendly ain't really warmin' to me, is he?"

Daryl side-eyed him. "Didn't realise you cared."

Merle shrugged. "I know you want us to get along, one big happy family." He gave Daryl a pointed look. "That is what you want, ain't it?"

Daryl's expression didn't change. "I want to survive. I don't want every day to be so damn hard that sometimes I wish I could just close my eyes and not have to open them again."

Merle's eyes narrowed. "That sounds like quitter talk to me, baby brother. Dixon's don't quit. I taught you that, remember?"

"I remember," said Daryl tightly, "and I ain't quittin' but what we got here-" he sweeped his hand towards the prison, "it's ain't nothin' and it's worth pullin' together for."

"And that's what you want for your life now, is it? You settin' up home in this place, hangin' your little lace curtains in the windows and startin' to whittlin' yourself a rockin' chair – is that what you want, boy?"

Daryl's expression hardened at Merle's mocking. "I'm just sayin' we got a good thing goin' here and I don't want to blow it."

Merle widened his stance, eyeing Daryl cynically. "And by good thing you mean you get to run around and be Rick's bitch, is that your idea of home sweet home, boy?"

Daryl's eyes narrowed. "That ain't what this is."

Merle faced off. "What I want to know is why you're so content to let the man who sentenced your brother to certain death, run around like he owns the place? Rick carries on like he's the king of this place and y'all just fall in behind him, like whipped bitches."

Daryl looked unhappy to be fighting, but he didn't back down. "Every group needs a leader. Rick is ours, that's just how it is."

"I know every group needs a leader, but why him?" Merle's gaze was hard. "Why didn't you step up and take charge, boy? You think Rick is better than you or somethin'?"

"I don't want to be no leader," said Daryl sharply. "I ain't interested in that shit."

"That was always your problem, little brother," said Merle in disgust, "you ain't got no drive. You should have been the one leadin' this group but instead you handed over your balls to Rick."

Daryl looked angry now, but he didn't lash out as Merle had expected. Instead his tone was steady. "And when you showed up again, Merle, was I meant to hand those balls over to you, like always?" His voice hardened. "Is that what was meant to happen?"

Merle was taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Daryl made a frustrated noise. "Forget it." He looked up at the sky. "It's nearly noon, I'm on guard duty in the tower." Daryl looked back at Merle. "What are you doin'?"

"I got stuff to do," said Merle calmly. "I don't need you holdin' my hand." He intentionally held up the arm with no hand. "See?" Merle wanted to make sure Daryl never forgot what his precious Rick had done to him because he sure as hell was never going to.

Daryl glanced at Merle's stump and looked away, a frown clouding his face.

Rick walked back into the courtyard just then. "Merle," he called out, "I got a job for you."

Merle sent a mocking look at Daryl. "I live to serve, Officer, what can old Merle do for you?" He only half-listened to Rick's request, keeping an eye on Daryl. His brother was going to have to make a choice soon and it was going to be between the group or Merle and Merle was going to make sure which way the choice went.

One way, or the other.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl repositioned the rifle on his shoulder as he wandered back and forth along the lookout of the tower. He rubbed the back of his neck tiredly, thinking about Merle. His brother was looking for a fight from whoever was going to rise to the baiting he was doing. Daryl knew the signs and Merle wasn't going to be happy until he got his pound of flesh. He grimaced, still hoping that Merle would see some sense and just let things go. Each passing day though, with Merle's attitude not changing, Daryl was being forced to entertain the thought that all this wasn't going to end well. He pushed the thought from his head, not wanting to finish think where it all may end. It was too unsettling. Daryl's eyes flicked over to the other unsettling facet of his life these days, the one currently working in the garden.

Carol.

Looking at Carol caused a different kind of churning inside of Daryl these days, but it was infinitely more pleasurable then what his brother caused him. He watched her, bent over the field of slowly budding plants, intent on tending to the garden. Daryl's right hand instinctively curled a little, as he remembered the touch of her skin against his knuckle last night. When Carol had almost fallen off the bus, his natural reflexes caught her, grabbing at her. What he hadn't expected was the feel of her pressed up against him in the process and the way that little bit of flesh on flesh contact between them would set his whole body on fire. He'd tried to find ways of prolonging the contact, not wanting to let her go. In the end he'd been forced to though, otherwise she was going to think he was insane. Hell, why not, Daryl felt insane. He didn't want to have these feelings about Carol, didn't want to complicate the good thing they did have. The trouble was, as each day passed, Daryl was getting a little more addicted to the thrill of being in Carol's company. It was a new experience and he had no way of knowing if it was even normal or not. Daryl couldn't help but wonder what Carol would make of all of this if she knew. Probably laugh. His jaw hardened at the thought. That could never happen, Carol could never know. As though all of his thinking about her had suddenly gotten Carol's attention, Daryl watched as she straightened up and looked his way. His stupid heart skipped a beat, not knowing it shouldn't do that.

Carol wiped her hands on her pants leg and then walked over to stand at the bottom of the tower. She bent her head right back to yell up to him. "Hey there, Rapunzel, anything interesting brewing out in Walker Land?"

Daryl flicked his gaze to the gaggle of Walkers stumbling around outside the fence. "No, too hot for them to be all that active."

Carol wiped her sweaty brow. "I know how they feel."

Even from where he was standing, Daryl could see the sweat on Carol's neck, could see the way certain droplets were running down the length of her skin to disappear between her breasts. The missed heartbeat was made up for as his heart struck up a new, fiercer rhythm at the sight. Daryl cleared his throat and tried to take his mind off where those sweat droplets would be now. "I reckon it's gonna rain tonight."

"Good," said Carol happily, "take some of the heat out of the air."

Daryl was still thinking about those sweat droplets. "How's your neck?"

"What?" Carol looked confuse.

"Where you were bit last night?"

"Oh, that, yeah, fine," she said hastily, "I told you, its fine."

"You showed Hershel?"

"Do you mean did I show Hershel that I was bitten by a bug... in Georgia... in the middle of summer?" Even from here Daryl could see her amusement. "I could have, but I didn't want to start a mass media panic."

"Smart ass."

Carol just laughed. "You still haven't had that bath, I see."

"Couldn't even if I wanted to, pump's broke."

"Seriously?" groaned Carol. "I was going to try and clean off a couple of layers of this dirt before dinner."

"Merle's lookin' to fix it."

"Merle know anything about pumps?"

"Do you?"

"Point taken." Carol wrinkled her nose. "I guess I'll go work on the generator. At least it'll be out of the sun."

"Just stay away from Axel," Daryl cautioned her, knowing the dumbass was working somewhere in the cellblock today. "I don't want you near him."

"You were serious about that?" asked Carol in disbelief.

"Don't I look serious?" said Daryl flatly. "That piece of shit is going to get you killed. It's like you two are gasoline and a match, bad stuff happens when you're around each other."

"Am I the match or the gas?" asked Carol cheekily.

"Whichever one has the biggest mouth," shot back Daryl dourly, concerned Carol wasn't taking this more to heart. "I'm serious, you keep well away from Axel."

"I think you're overreacting, just a bit," said Carol in amusement. "It was just a couple of accidents."

"One more of those accident and it's technically a spree," said Daryl darkly. Carol stifled a laugh. "I ain't foolin' with this," said Daryl in annoyance.

"Alright, fine," said Carol indulgently, "I'll keep outta Axel's way, happy?" She smiled up at him.

Daryl grunted in response.

Carol shook her head at him, still looking amused. "See you at dinner." With that she headed off back to the cellblock.

Daryl couldn't help but watching until she was completely out of sight. When Carol was gone, he looked back out over the prison grounds and let out a long sigh and tried to remember a time when he didn't have so much to worry about at any given moment.

Nothing was coming to him.

**A/N****: Okay, seeing as this chapter seems to be having all kinds of issues with FF being able to upload it, I'm just going to add this note to the bottom because I just read this interview on my MSN homepage and was squeeing like the rampant fan girl I am. LOL **

**Norman Reedus quote: **

"**Fans aren't the only ones who want to see Daryl and Carol become a couple on "The Walking Dead."**

**Norman Reedus, who plays the bow and arrow-yielding hero, said the love connection should happen between his character and that of Melissa McBride's - with a few addenda.**

**"I want to play it with no game," Reedus, 44, said at an Academy of Television Arts & Sciences panel Tuesday in North Hollywood. "I want her to make the first move, and I kind of just whimper."**

**I LOVE this because that is so my take on things with this story, that if anything is actually going to happen, Carol is going to have to be the one to lead the way... after she works it out all in her head, of course. That being said, I see it still being very mutual, just Carol being more emotionally evolved in matters of the heart and certainly in the physical aspect, given how I'm writing Daryl in this story. I always wanted Daryl to be clumsy and kinda useless, like an inexperienced teenager who wants intimacy, but doesn't really know how to go about it properly. I'm really looking forward to those scenes. **

**As for what will happen on the show, my fan girl heart is hopeful, because I know NR has a lot of input into his character... so I'll wait and see. ;) **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N****: So guys, how good was the second S3 premier the other night? So many feels. 3 My Caryl lovin' heart was on a high. ;) Apparently E12 and 13 are meant to have some wonderful 'private' scenes between Carol and Daryl. I don't know what that means, but any time NR and MM share a scene, I'm so there! :D **

**It was weird watching the show, knowing where my fic was going and watching TWD take on everything. Very interesting and makes me feel like I'm justified in taking this story where I'd planned. ;) And with that vague statement, I'm launching into the next chapter. Interesting to note, I'd written key dialog in both this chapter and the next before I saw the return episode. Or maybe it's only interesting to me... hard to tell. **

**Had fun with Merle and Rick in this chapter, hope you do to... **

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Come here you slobbering sons of bitches," taunted Merle as he stood at the fence. He rattled the mesh of the fence, getting a group of four Walkers attention. They saw him and immediately started to stagger over. Merle waited until the first one was close enough, standing face to face with the snarling Walker as it clawed at him through the wire of the fence. "You really are some ugly mother fuckers, ain't ya?" he drawled in disgust. Merle raised the screwdriver he was holding and drove it through the chain link and into the Walkers brain. The reinforced metal made a pleasing popping sound as it pierced the creature's brain, dark blood gushing out of the small wound. The Walker dropped to the ground, truly dead now as another climbed over it, eager to take its comrades place with the promise of fresh meat to gnaw on. "No need to push and shove, fellas," said Merle gleefully as the three remaining Walkers tried to get to him through the fence. "I got plenty for all of you." Merle promptly dispatched the other three with the same screwdriver, leaving behind a heap of rotting corpses. He kicked at them through the fence. "Y'all enjoy that, cause I did."

"What you doin'?"

The disapproving question had Merle turning around. He arched an eyebrow at an impatient looking Rick. "What does it look like I'm doin'?" he threw back. "I'm keepin' everyone safe. Ain't that what this little group of yours is all about?"

"You're meant to be fixing the water pump," said Rick tersely. He nodded at the array of tools around the pump which brought water up into the cellblock.

"I'm multi-taskin'," said Merle casually.

"We need water," said Rick shortly. "If you can't do it-"

"Hold on, boy, I never said I couldn't do it." Merle shrugged. "I just ain't on your time clock, is all. It'll get done."

Rick's tone was sharp. "It needs to be done now."

"In your opinion."

Rick's jaw hardened. "You got a problem, Merle, then come out and say it straight. I ain't got time for all of this passive aggressive shit."

Merle gave a little laugh. "Just so you know, Officer Friendly, ain't nothin' passive about my aggression." He gave him a pointed look. "You'd do well to remember that."

Rick made an impatient noise. "What are you doing here, Merle? What do you want from us?"

Merle walked away from the fence and came to stand in front of Rick. "Who says I want anythin' from y'all?"

"You tellin' me you don't?"

"I wanted to see my brother. He's my kin. What's so wrong with that?"

Rick regarded his steadily. "So what, you just want to be a part of the group and let bygones be bygones, is that it?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"Frankly, yeah, it is. You don't seem like the forgive and forget kinda guy."

Merle scratched as his cheek. "Folks can change. Y'all did, why can't I?" He could see Rick was still trying to size him up, work out his angle and Merle wasn't about to make it easy for him.

"So, you're not looking for revenge for what happened in Atlanta?" Rick's tone was sceptical.

Merle looked at his metal-covered stump thoughtfully. "There don't seem much point in revenge. It ain't gonna bring my hand back, now is it?" A cool smile which didn't touch his eyes settled on Merle's lips. "Although, I'm not gonna lie, I thought about it. The good book talks about an eye for an eye. I reckon a hand for a hand ain't too much to ask." Merle didn't give Rick a chance to talk. "But I had me an epiphany out there on my own all those months. All I wanted was to see my brother again and I made a deal with God, that if that happened, I'd let go of my right to restitution."

"You and God are on speakin' terms?" asked Rick mockingly.

Merle grinned. "He ain't much of a talker, but I say my piece to Him."

"And what did you figure this right to restitution would like?" Rick quizzed him sweetly. "You know, before you gave it up and all?"

"I'd be lyin' if I didn't say I figured all of you who left me for dead endin' up bleedin' on the ground wouldn't bring a smile to my face." Merle shrugged. "But then, Walkers seemed to have done most of the work for me. So I guess it's true what they say, karma really is a bitch."

"What happened in Atlanta, you brought on yourself," said Rick sharply. "It weren't anyone's fault but your own, Merle."

Merle's tone hardened. "Is that right? I reckon we're going to have to agree to disagree on that one, Sheriff. See, I wouldn't do to a dog what you did to me."

"I won't let you take away what we've built here," ground out Rick.

"Oh, I don't think I'm what you gotta worry 'bout, Rick," smirked Merle. "You got a habit of killin' everyone who believes in you anyways. If I want my revenge, all I gotta do is wait. Truth be told, I worry about my little brother round you. Can't help but feel he'd be a lot safer a long ways away from you and your obvious issues."

Rick's eyes flared in anger. "I know what you're tryin' to do," he cautioned him darkly. "You're tryin' to make a rift in this group. Well, it ain't gonna work. Daryl is like a brother to me now, we all care what happens to him."

Merle smirked. "Is that right?" His lips twisted. "I heard tell the last man you called brother ended up with your knife stickin' outta his gut." Merle watched in satisfaction as a flash of pain crossed Rick's face. "Maybe Daryl ain't so keen for you to call him brother, you ever think of that?" Merle's smirked deepened. "Like I said, seems to me, everyone you claim a tie to ends up dyin' round you." He looked at his stump. "Or minus some bits, the old man and I can testify to that. At least you had the balls to hack old Herschel's leg off yourself. I had to fend for myself on that one."

"I was saving his life," Rick ground out.

"You were tryin' to save him so that he'd look after your knocked up woman," Merle countered, taking a stab in the dark with that one but the sudden stricken look on Rick's face told him he'd landed his mark. "And hell, that worked out just great in the end for everyone, didn't it?" he finished tauntingly.

Rick's eyes flashed death. "You leave Lori outta this!"

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" said Merle coolly. "Try and forget she ever existed, try to blot out all the ways you failed her." Rick violently shoved at Merle's chest, catching him off-guard. Merle stumbled backwards onto the ground. He looked up at Rick, a grin on his face. "Looks like I hit a nerve there, Sheriff." Merle calmly stood up again, dusting his pants leg off. "Now then, boy, don't get all het up, I was just playin' with you."

Rick's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Nothin' you do is a game, Merle, don't think you're foolin' anyone otherwise." His jaw hardened. "We've tolerated your presence here on account of Daryl, but don't think that good will is gonna last forever. We all see you for who you really are, and one day real soon, Daryl is gonna do the same."

It annoyed Merle that Rick could stand there and think he could tell him about his own brother, but he didn't let it show. "You know what I see?" asked Merle coolly. He didn't wait for Rick to answer. "I see a man hangin' by a thread. You made yourself leader of this group and got them all believin' in you when you don't even believe in yourself." Merle chuckled. "How funny is that shit?"

Rick glared at him. "Just you keep away from my boy. You two ain't got nothin' to say to each other, you hear me?"

"Well," drawled Merle, "I reckon that'd be up to Carl to decide. I ain't gonna turn him away if he needs a father-figure in his life. I got a lot of love to give, you know."

Rick's hand curled into a fist and Merle just smirked at him, silently egging him on to take the shot. It was easy to see how Rick was barely hanging onto this kingdom he'd set up around him. The man was all shot to hell in the brain, a blind man could see that. Thing was, no one in this group wanted to admit their leader was the shell of the man they used to know. The thought of simply killing Rick where he slept had been a tempting one for Merle, but when he saw the state Officer Friendly was in, he decided it was going to be a lot more fun to take things away from him one by one. It wasn't going to take much to make him crack and Merle was just going to keep that pressure up and stand back and wait for the inevitable.

Rick drew back, fighting for control of his emotions. "Just stay away from Carl," he bit out, "and fix that damn pump." With that Rick turned on his heel and stalked off.

Merle half-smiled to watch him go. "Aye, aye, Sheriff," he said mockingly. This was even more fun than watching the guy bleed to death like a stuck pig he decided and Merle was real happy to have ring-side seats for the show.

**oooOOOOooo**

"Carl, wait up," called out Rick as he hurried to catch up with his son. Carl looked back over his shoulder as Rick caught up and fell into step with him. They walked along in silence with Rick throwing a few concerned glances at Carl's stony profile. "What did you and Merle talkin' bout before?" Rick quizzed him.

Carl shrugged as they walked along. "I dunno, nothin'."

Rick reached out and touched Carl's shoulder, indicating he should stop walking. "You must have talked about somethin'."

Carl frowned. "What does it matter?"

"It matters because Merle ain't your friend and if he's pretendin' to be, then he's got an agenda," said Rick tersely. "I want you to stay away from him, you hear?"

"What about what I want?" shot back Carl. "Don't I get a say in who I talk to?"

Rick scowled at Carl's open defiance. "Not when it comes to Merle Dixon you don't, no." He put his hand on Carl's shoulder and gripped it tightly. "That man is fixin' to make trouble for me and I don't want you in the middle of that."

"But I am, Dad," said Carl shortly. "I'm in the middle of everythin' and I have been for a long time. You wishin' it was different don't change nothin'."

Rick felt the panic well up inside of him that Carl was right. He just didn't want to have to deal with that right now. "What ain't changed is that I'm your father and you will listen to me," he said sternly.

"I listen to everythin', Dad," said Carl sharply, "even the things you don't want me to. You're the one who ain't listenin', not to me, not to anyone." With that Carl jerked his shoulder out from Rick's grasp and stormed off.

"Carl!" called out Rick in frustration after him, but the boy didn't even turn around.

"Looks like Merle has claimed another victim."

Glenn's mocking tone in his ear had Rick jerking around to see the younger man loading up empty crates by the wall of the cell block. "Don't start, Glenn," he warned him.

"Why would I bother?" asked Glenn tartly. "It's like Carl said, it's not like you listen anymore anyways."

"A decision had to be made," said Rick sharply. "I made it."

"As long as you can live with the consequences, then that's great," said Glenn morosely. "I just hope others don't have to pay for your mistakes, again."

Rick sent him a warning look. "You think you can do better?"

"I think I wouldn't let an animal like Merle Dixon set up camp next to my children, next to the people you said you were all about protecting," Glenn shot back bitterly. "You know Merle is dangerous and you're letting him stay anyway."

"I'm giving him a chance," said Rick coldly.

Glenn sent him an angry look. "You shouldn't because he wouldn't do the same for us."

"I need you on my side over this, Glenn," said Rick through gritted teeth. "This is hard enough on all of us as it is."

"And whose fault is that?" asked Glenn acrimoniously.

"Merle's," said Rick without hesitation. "If you can't let go of your anger, you at least keep it where it belongs, Glenn. I ain't wronged you and I have no intention of ever doin' so. We're on the same side, don't let your fixation about Merle blind you to that fact."

Glenn looked away abruptly and shook his head. "Lettin' him stay is a mistake," said Glenn stubbornly.

Rick stepped closer. "Listen to me." He made his tone harder when Glenn refused to look at him. "I said listen to me," said Rick sharply. He kept his voice low. "Do you believe Merle was wanderin' around in those woods by himself all this time?"

Glenn frowned. "No, I guess not."

"He had to have help, right?" continued on Rick. "Now, we got no way of knowin' if he was comin' from a camp of his own when he met up with you and Maggie in town, or if they kicked him out months ago." Rick leaned in even closer, his expression even more serious. "What I do know is that while Merle is with us, he's not headin' back to some camp full of folks like him ready to come back here and take the prison by force."

Glenn's expression had changed to one of surprise. "You think that could happen?"

"We never crossed paths with that group of thirty or so that Randall was meant to belong to," reasoned Rick. "How do we know Merle wasn't apart of them? Hell, how do we know Merle wasn't their leader?" His gaze was intent. "When it comes to Merle, there are still a lot of things we don't know 'bout him and I ain't comfortable turnin' him out of the prison, only to see him turn up the next day with a hoard of folks lookin' to take what is ours. I'm keepin' my friends close and my enemies closer."

"But you don't know Merle's come from any kind of camp, not for sure," argued Glenn unevenly. "What we do know for sure is he's looking for revenge on you and me and anyone else who gets in his way." He made a frustrated sound. "We're protecting against a maybe at the cost of a certainty."

"It's a risk," agreed Rick, "but it's a calculated one. Daryl is keepin' an eye on Merle, we all are. It's like they say in those nature shows, it's the shark you don't see is the one that gets you. I'd rather have that redneck son of bitch shark out circlin' in open waters where I can keep an eye on him, rather than hid away in the depths, ready to come up and grab us unexpected like."

"But we're still setting up house with a shark," said Glenn in despair.

Rick ran his hand through his head and glanced back over his shoulder to where his disgruntled son had run off. Merle was definitely having an impact on the group and he didn't like it. They were fragile enough as it was. "I don't know what to tell you, Glenn, other than I ain't happy about this either, and we all just have to pull together to make sure we have each other's back."

"Or we could just kill him."

Rick gave him a shocked look. "What?"

Glenn shrugged casually. "It's a dangerous world we live in. People die all the time. Why couldn't it be someone who deserved it for a change?"

Rick eyed Glenn with concern. He wasn't used to this kind of talk from the usually hopeful Glenn. "Nobody is killin' Merle," he said determinedly.

"It'd solve all of our problems," said Glenn unflinchingly. "If you don't want to do it, I'd be happy to."

And that's what worried Rick. He shook his head. "No. It ain't called for." Rick held Glenn's gaze steadily. "Yet."

"When will it be called for?" asked Glenn harshly. "When he's killed one of us?" He didn't give Rick a chance to answer, simply walked away. Rick let out a frustrated breath, seems like everyone was walking away from him these days. _Damn you, Merle, why couldn't you have bled out in some gutter in Atlanta_? That would have made things so much simpler right now.

If wishes were horses...

**A/N****: Next chapter is written, I'll post it tomorrow... it's got Caryl in it. Stay tuned. ;) **


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N****: As promised, the next chapter. :)**

**Thank you to everyone who let me know they were enjoying Merle – even if it was a 'love to hate' kinda way. LOL Love it. :D **

**Like I said in the last chapter, I'd actually penned a lot of this dialog before I saw the S3 return episode, so it was a little surreal for me. I ended up fiddling with Daryl in this one (sorry, that sounded naughty LOL ). I just meant I changed his mood to match some actions I had in my head. I'm not sure I've got it right, but if you could see what is in my head, that would be so much easier. **

**Okay, posting this before I go to bed (long day at work). I'm always a bit nervous when I post Caryl stuff, because I know you're all fans and I want to do them justice. **

**Thanks again for reading...**

**Chapter Nineteen **

Carol pulled picked up the latest spring she'd pulled from the generator and blew on it, trying to dislodge some dust before cleaning it. The generator room was dark and cool and she quite liked sitting there, meticulously cleaning all the parts of the generator in hopes they could be reassembled and they'd have a working, portable generator one day soon. She picked up the rag by her side and started to rub the years of grease and oil off the small piece.

"Carol!"

"In here," she called out absently to Rick yelling out her name. She didn't look up from cleaning the spring when he walked into the room.

"Did you move the bullets for my rifle?" Rick snapped at her. "Damn it, Carol, I need to know where those things are 24/7, in case we're suddenly under attack. I can't be fumblin' round, tryin' to find bullets when lives are at stake!"

Carol did look up now and she held his gaze steadily. "You asked me to move all the ammunition stores from the main holding cell out into the corridor last week," she reminded him calmly. "We needed more room for the food supplies and you said the ammunition stores would be better in the corridor."

Rick blinked, looking momentarily confused. His shoulders sagged as he obviously remembered now. "Oh." He shook his head. "Yeah, right, I forgot." Rick scowled at her. "Sorry."

"It's alright," said Carol mildly. She looked him over. "Somethin' on your mind, Rick?"

"No," he said tersely.

Carol gave him a knowing look. "Merle, huh?"

Rick made an annoyed noise. "The man is lookin' for a fight."

"Of course he is," said Carol casually, going back to cleaning her spring. "You didn't really expect anything different, did you?"

"No," ground out Rick. He looked down at his feet and then back at Carol. "I don't know if I've done the right thing in letting Merle stay."

Carol didn't look up. "You did do the right thing, and you know it." She did stop then, and leant back against the wall behind her. "What you meant to say is you don't know how all this is going to turn out. Right intentions don't always end up with right results." Carol gave a sad little smile. "You used to struggle with that so much in the beginning," she said softly and shook her head. "I'd watch you, always tryin' to do the right thing by folks and it never turnin' out like you wanted." Carol sent him a serious look, her face tightening in pain. "You know, I don't think I ever thanked you for what you did for Sophia that day, for both of us."

Rick's face crumpled a little. "I couldn't save her."

"You saved her," said Carol quietly, "just not in the way any of us were plannin' on." A tear dripped from Carol's face, unnoticed by her. "You know what I think, Rick? I think that day, somethin' died inside of us all with Sophia." She looked intently up at him. "Somethin' died in you because all of a sudden, you weren't struggling so much with the right and wrong of it all. You were just looking to survive, to make sure all of us survived."

"What else could I do?" asked Rick, voice raw with emotion. "Survival is all we have left."

"That isn't true," she admonished him gently. "Or least, it doesn't have to be true unless you want it to be." Carol reached out and took his hand and squeezed it. "Don't let Merle get to you, Rick, it's what he wants. You've done a lot for all of us and we all love you and need you. We've made a family here and it's because of you. With things the way they are, that's the most precious thing in the world and it's a whole lot more than just surviving. You have to know that."

Rick looked down at Carol's hand which was holding his. He raised it up and held it against his cheek, closing his eyes. Rick then pressed a kiss to the back of Carol's hand and sent her a grateful look. "Thank you," he said roughly, still holding on tightly to her hand.

Carol gave him a compassionate look. "Just hang on a little longer, Rick. I know, Daryl is gonna make the right decision when it comes to Merle."

Rick gave a little laugh and didn't look so sure. "You sure have a lot of faith in people these days, Carol."

"Certain people I do." They smiled at each other at that and Carol was glad to see Rick relax a little. He was so stressed these days and Carol just wasn't sure how to help him like he needed. All she could do was be there for him if he ever needed to talk. It was funny, Rick holding her hand like this, even kissing her hand, Carol hadn't felt any kind of romantic surge at all. Maybe her moment of insanity last night was just that, a moment. A man's touch wasn't sending her into some teenage swoon today and she was relieved. The last thing any of them needed was her wandering around like a lovesick fool, desperate for a man's attention. Those days were long behind her, thank God. "It's all going to work out, Rick, trust me," she assured him calmly.

Daryl suddenly appeared in the doorway and he looked a little surprised to see Rick there. His gaze flicked over the way she and Rick were holding hands. "Sorry," he said gruffly, "didn't mean to interrupt nothin'."

Carol resisted the urge to pull her hand out of Rick's loose hold, knowing it would be a ridiculous thing to do.

Rick shook his head. "You ain't, I was just goin', Carl is waitin' on me." He looked down at Carol. "Thank you," he said gratefully and with a last squeeze of her hand, Rick let go and headed out of the room. He and Daryl nodded at each other as he passed.

Carol gave Daryl a weak smile and quickly went to pick up the spring and resume cleaning it. She needed something to do because all of a sudden the room seemed a lot smaller when he was in it. Talking to Daryl in an open field while he was up in the tower was one thing, but having him standing right there, well, all of a sudden that felt like another thing entirely. Damn it, she cursed internally, this stupid thing hadn't gone away after all. Why the hell did this have to happen now when everything was going so well in her life?

"Carol?"

Carol looked up at Daryl at his concerned saying of her name. "Yes?"

Daryl scowled. "Are you listenin' to me?"

"Oh, ahh, sorry, what did you say?" She was trying not to appear flustered, because for a woman of her age, that would be stupid and just a little pathetic.

"I asked if everythin' is alright," repeated Daryl. He looked her over. "You and Rick-"

"Were just talking," she finished off easily. "Rick just needed to let off some steam, is all."

Daryl nodded slowly. "Because of Merle," he guessed, voice hardening.

"Rick has a lot of things going on," hedged Carol, "not just Merle."

"But Merle ain't makin' his life easier," said Daryl darkly. "He ain't makin' anyone's life easier."

"How about you?" asked Carol curiously. "Is your life easier with Merle here?"

"Hell, no," said Daryl in disgust and then looked like he regretted his candour.

She eyed him speculatively. "You know," said Carol softly, "I sometimes wonder if Ed could see me now, what he'd make of me." She paused. "I've changed, a lot. I'm not the same woman he used to beat up on. I'm not the same person who used to cower in front of him and accept everything he handed out and come back for more."

Daryl was looking at her warily, clearly on edge with this conversation. "You got a point?"

"I do," said Carol easily. "I won't ever have Ed in my life again because he's dead but Merle isn't." Her tone was serious. "I don't get a choice, but you do, Daryl."

"I know," said Daryl tightly, "Merle or the group, I got the memo." He turned to leave abruptly.

Carol quickly stood up and moved over to grab his arm to stop him. "No," she corrected him firmly, "the choice is you or Merle, not Merle or the group."

Daryl scowled at her as she held onto his arm.

Carol continue on, tone earnest. "Merle isn't going to change, he still wants his little brother falling in behind him but you're not that person anymore. You've changed, grown, become a part of something more than just being a baby brother to Merle. Your world is bigger and his has stayed the same. If you want to keep Merle in your life, you have to let go of who you've become. That's your choice, Daryl." Carol's voice wavered a little. "And maybe it's selfish of me, but I don't want to lose the man you've become. Merle doesn't deserve him."

Daryl looked torn. "You don't know what you're askin'." A muscle twitched in his cheek, a sure sign he was upset.

"I'm askin' you to back yourself," said Carol softly, "because we all are."

"I don't want people relyin' on me," Daryl said in ire. "That ain't ever what I wanted."

"If that was true you would have left us long ago," said Carol simply. "You wouldn't have stuck around and looked for Sophia the way you did, you wouldn't have fought for us all on the farm or to get into this prison. You wouldn't have done all that you could do to make sure Judith survived in those first few days or looked for me when everyone thought I was dead." As confused as Carol was around Daryl all of a sudden, she wasn't confused about the kind of man he was.

Daryl shook her hand off, face flushing in anger. "I don't know what y'all expect me to do," he growled in frustration. "Merle is kin and y'all are-are-" Daryl bit off his sentence and turned around to kick out at the nearest thing close to him which just happened to be the door. The iron door was impervious to his assault to Daryl kicked it a few more times for good measure.

"Stop that!" said Carol urgently, worried he was going to break his leg. She went to grab his arm again and Daryl pulled it violently away. His rough action caught Carol off-guard and she was knocked off balance. Carol's back hit the wall behind them and her breath left her lungs in a sharp hiss of pain. Daryl looked at her in horror, obviously not having intended to hurt her and now he looked frozen to the spot, unsure how to ask for forgiveness. Carol pushed herself away from the wall, seeing Daryl didn't know what to do next. On instinct, she moved towards him and wrapped her arms around Daryl's neck and drew him into a tight hug, silently telling him it was alright. At first she felt Daryl resist, body stiffening and trying to draw back but she refused to let go. Carol held onto him tightly and then Daryl was relaxing more into the embrace, his arms hesitantly wrapping themselves around her waist as he returned the hug. Holding Daryl was both a comforting and unsettling experience. This touch reminded Carol of how much intimacy there was already between them, but it also teased with how much more there could be. She grimaced over Daryl's shoulder, knowing he didn't need a lover right now, he needed a friend and chastised herself for her wayward selfishness.

"I don't know what to do," Daryl confessed raggedly into her neck.

"But you will," she replied confidently. Carol drew back a little, letting her hands rest on Daryl's upper arms now.

"How can you be so sure?" Daryl's question was tortured, the anger seeming have left him abruptly.

Carol's reply was to the point. "Because I know you."

"I don't want to let anyone down." Daryl was staring at her, not loosening his hold on her.

Carol went up on her toes a little so she could press her forehead against his. "I know," she sighed, knowing that such a day would come anyway. Someone was going to lose out in all of this, and she couldn't bear to think that person might be Daryl. Carol watched as he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead harder into hers, seeking out her comfort. Carol followed suit, closing her eyes as well. They stood like that for a long time, Carol wasn't even sure how long. At some point she felt Daryl's hand move a little restlessly on her back and she opened her eyes, worried she'd overstepped the physical bounds of their relationship for lingering too long in this embrace.

Daryl's eyes were open too, they were searching her face but Carol wasn't sure for what. The moment filled up with tension between them, his breathing roughening. Daryl looked like he was a little freaked out at their extended embrace and when he moved slightly, Carol figured he was going to break contact. Instead he surprised her by hesitantly moving his cheek against hers. The bristles of his straggly facial hair tickled against the side of her face brought a little smile to Carol's face. Daryl was holding himself a little stiffly, like he didn't know what he was meant to do next. Carol wasn't exactly sure what Daryl wanted from her so she just stroked the back of his head. "It's going to be alright," she promised him, just as she had done Rick not long ago.

"No," he said, voice low and gravely, "it ain't." Daryl rubbed his cheek against hers after that despairing claim, seeking solace.

Carol felt him move again, so that his face was now nestled in against her neck. She held onto Daryl closely and tried not to let her mind wander about how good it felt to be standing like this with him.

Daryl was clinging to her now. "It ain't," he repeated raggedly, voice cracking.

All Carol could do was hold onto him and attempt to try and offer some comfort about the choice Daryl had ahead of him. Daryl moved against her neck, almost seeming to nuzzle it and Carol closed her eyes, trying to not get lost in the sensation. It was no use, she had to stop this otherwise all that was going to happen was she was going to give Daryl something new to fret over. Carol knew without a shadow of a doubt that Daryl wouldn't have the first clue what to do with any kind of romantic feelings from her. She drew back as gently as she could and smiled up at Daryl, even as he looked a little confused and disorientated at her breaking their embrace. "Daryl, I-"

"Daryl, you down here, little brother?!"

They both jumped at the bellowing sound of Merle's voice disturbing the quiet. Daryl stepped back abruptly, breaking all contact between them completely just as Merle walked into the room.

"There you are," he said in exasperation. "I been lookin' for you." Merle looked over at Carol. "My baby brother tell you that I fixed the pump?"

"No," said Carol, doing her best to remain composed and noticing the way Daryl was trying not to look at her.

Merle scowled at Daryl. "I thought that's what you said you were comin' down here to do, tell Carol she could take that bath now."

"I ain't got around to it," said Daryl, offering no further explanation.

Merle gave them both a considered look. "I see, then what have you two been yappin' about all this time?"

"The next trip into town," Carol lied easily.

Merle arched an eyebrow. "That right?"

Daryl moved his shoulders restlessly. "Ain't we goin' on a quick hunt before sundown? We should get goin'."

"I ain't the one with their thumb up their ass, wastin' time," Merle countered. "I was waitin' on you." His gaze wandered over to Carol. "Unless you'd like me to stay and wash all those hard to get at places for you, little lady?" Merle had a salacious smile playing around his lips. "I reckon I could help you out with all of those nooks and crannies real fine like."

"Obviously I'm tempted," dead-panned Carol, "but I think that's a no, Merle. In fact, I'm certain it's a hell no from me."

"You're missin' out," Merle teased her knowingly, "I know how to scrub just right to make bath time fun for everyone."

"We goin' or not?" Daryl snapped. "I got better things to do then stand here and listen to you two yap." With that Daryl stalked off.

"My brother's a might sensitive today," observed Merle, watching Daryl leave. He lowered his voice in a conspiratorial fashion. "It's his time of the month."

Carol gave him an unimpressed look. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be, Merle?"

Merle just laughed and Carol shook her head. This man was intent on being a thorn in everyone's side and at some point that thorn was going to have to be removed. Carol just knew it wasn't going to be a painless procedure. After Merle had left, Carol ran her hand through her cropped hair and blew out a long breath. At least Merle's interruption had stopped things getting awkward between her and Daryl. It was a small mercy, but at this point, Carol was willing to take it. She didn't know what was to become of her relationship with Daryl, but she did know that she wasn't about to add to his burden with more confusion. He didn't need that, hell, she didn't need that.

Carol just hoped she could keep it together, for both of their sakes.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N****: Finally managed to find some time today to write this chapter. It's been a busy week of work. To make up for it, this is a really long one (that's what she said). Sorry, couldn't resist. 0:)**

**Wow, after watching the latest episode of TWD, those last few minutes sure were interesting and I guess we're going to get to see how the actual writers of the show take on the scenario I'm writing about. That should be interesting. I'll be interested in seeing all of those dynamics play out. **

**Speaking of dynamics, I've spent most of this week just trying to get my head around the next part of this fic and work out what to show case. The thing is, Merle is like this big old stone which was dropped into the pond of the group and he's created all these ripples. Now I just have to figure which ripples I should address. Basically Merle's arrival has impacted on all the relationships in the group, and that's a lot of different combos – Daryl/Carol, Daryl/Rick, Rick/Glenn, Glenn/Maggie, Beth/Carl, Carl/Daryl, Carl/Rick, Hershel/Daryl et al. Lots and lots of different avenues to explore there and I have to sort through the embarrassment of riches, any of those mentioned combos being able to have their own fic written about them, and work out what I want to enrich my story, while not going too off course. Like I said, I've been wrestling a bit with it, but I think I have a basic combo outlined that should work. **

**Alright, enough dribble from me. More fall out happening from all of the events of the last few chapters. I'm slowly layering things up and building up to a crescendo of a breaking point for the whole thing, so here we go, another layer... :D **

**Chapter Twenty**

Daryl sat on the concrete steps which led up to the entrance of their cellblock. He was methodically waxing the strings on his crossbow, happy to have a menial task to occupy his hands with while his thoughts were far away. He kept turning over in his head what had happened in the generator room yesterday. Daryl's face remained expressionless, but in his mind's eye, he relived every single detail of those moments he'd shared with Carol. It was like they'd been burned into him. Her concern and quiet analysis of him and this whole situation had Daryl reeling and trying to catch up. But when she'd wrapped her body around him Daryl had become undone. He'd been too frightened to move, in case Carol might remove her touch from him, but the longer they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the less satisfying it had become.

Daryl had wanted more in that moment and it terrified him. He'd buried his head in her neck and smelt Carol's skin. She'd smelled of machine oil, salty sweat and the faint smell of those berries he'd brought back for the girls to wash with. It was an oddly heady combination which had Daryl's head spinning. He'd been caught between craving more from that moment of intimacy and being terrified of something actually happening. Daryl made a low sound in his throat, annoyed at himself for harbouring two such opposing impulses about the same event. He'd watched one of those nature programs once, where it talked all about the 'flight or fight' response. It was the moment a cornered animal chose to run or stand its ground and fight. Daryl had felt like an animal cornered by his own confusing emotions in that generator room. Equal parts of him wanted to run away from their embrace and fight through his fear to ask for more.

The trouble was, Daryl wasn't sure how to take it further if he'd managed to overcome his fears.  
An extra worry was also if, in his fumbling attempts, Carol had turned around and laughed at him. Daryl knew that would be the end of him. His relationship with Carol had become the most significant in his life, after his one with Merle, and to have that ruined by his inexperience and general ineptitude around women would have been too much to live with. So, he'd stood there, frozen to the spot, caught between two sets of giant and opposing emotions, not knowing what to do next.

Everything felt like it was closing in on him. Trying to manage the integration of Merle into the reluctant group, struggling with the old dynamics between him and his brother and then this whole thing with Carol, Daryl didn't know which way to turn anymore. He wasn't equipped to know how to deal with all of these confusing emotions and he was getting more frustrated by the day. A sound behind him had Daryl tensing and looking back over his shoulder up the stairs. He immediately relaxed when he saw Hershel at the top of the stairs. Daryl inclined his head in acknowledgement of the older man.

"Daryl," responded Hershel evenly. He took his crutches in one hand and hopped down the steps on his one remaining leg.

Daryl leant to one side to let him pass and couldn't help but be impressed by how well Hershel had adapted to the loss of his leg. "Nimble old goat, ain't ya?"

Hershel chuckled, taking no offense because none was intended. "I don't reckon I'm ready to break the minute mile record just yet, but I get by." He came to the bottom of the stairs and leaned back on his crutches. Hershel turned his face up to the sky and took a deep breath. "I needed some fresh air. In those prison cells you kinda lose track of the day. It can be demoralisin'."

"I think that's the point," said Daryl wryly.

Hershel half-smiled. "I suppose it is." He looked Daryl over. "How are you, son?"

Daryl shrugged. "Fine, why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem to have a lot going on these days," observed the older man. "It can take a toll on a man."

"I don't want to talk about it," said Daryl tersely. He didn't mean to be short with Hershel, but there were so many thoughts chasing themselves around in his head, it was hard to sort them out. Daryl wasn't sure he could have shared, even if he wanted to.

Hershel nodded. "Fair enough." He pursed his lips, watching Daryl carefully. "Carol's been lookin' for you."

Daryl's insides froze, once again his emotions at war over that bit of news. Part of him wanted to leap up and run to her side, the other wanted to cower in the shadows like the coward Daryl was beginning to see himself as. He continued applying the wax to the strings of his crossbow which definitely didn't need it anymore. "I ain't hidin'," said Daryl tightly. "She can find me any time she wants."

"Don't recall sayin' you were," said Hershel amicably enough. "Just thought you should know." His voice lowered. "She worries 'bout you."

Daryl scowled, not needing to hear that right now. He was worrying enough for the both of them.

"We all are."

Daryl looked up at Hershel, voice tight with frustration. "There ain't no need. I told you, I'm fine."

"Maggie broke her collarbone coming off a horse when she was seventeen," commented Hershel idly. "She had that same look in her eye when she told me she was fine to go to the Prom that night."

"I ain't a teenage girl," said Daryl grumpily.

"No," agreed Hershel readily, "you're a man bein' torn in a lot of directions at once. Obligations to the past and the present, it ain't an easy cross to bear."

Daryl put his attention back on his bow. "I can handle it." He could feel Hershel's intent gaze on him but refused to meet that look. The old man saw too damn much and Daryl wasn't interested in being an open book just then.

"I reckon you can, as long as you're able to see things as they really are, and not how you want them to be."

Daryl did look up then, his eyes narrowing. "Meanin'?"

Hershel half-smiled and looked down at his missing right leg, seeming to change the subject. "You know, right now, I got a powerful itch on that right big toe of mine. It's itchin' somethin' fierce." He looked back at Daryl and gave a dry laugh. "It's a phantom itch. This old brain of mine hasn't come to terms with all those nerve endings no longer bein' there. It's still thinkin' it's getting messages from those nerves that used to run into my leg."

Daryl's frown deepened, not sure what Hershel wanted him to say to that. They all felt bad about him losing his leg, but it was the only way to save his life. It seemed Hershel wasn't looking for sympathy though.

"There's a lot of things in life that can be like that," Hershel continued on conversationally. "Our brain thinkin' there are still links there, when in actual fact, those nerve endin's are gone, and all is left is the memory of them." He leaned heavily on his crutches, tone as steady as his gaze as he continued on. "Son, no one is questionin' the links you had with Merle. You got ties, history, things you've shared." Hershel paused. "But want you want to ask yourself is, are you rememberin' things how they used to be, or how they are now." His tone was serious. "I think things have changed between the two of you. I know Merle thinks so and until you come to terms with that, you're gonna have phantom pains of your own."

Daryl struggled to get his words out with all the emotion Hershel had unwittingly stirred up in him. "Merle is my brother," he ground out.

"And my leg was my leg," said Hershel calmly, "and always will be, only, I gotta just accept that it ain't a part of my body no more and do the best I can to get by without it because that leg was gonna be the death of me."

"Merle ain't a diseased limb to be hacked off," said Daryl harshly.

Hershel gave him a pointed look. "I guess that's up to you to figure out for yourself, son." He made a sympathetic face. "Sometimes I think I had it easy, I didn't get a choice in losin' my leg. Rick made that call for me and saved my life. Unfortunately, son, this is your decision to make, and no one in the group is going to make it for you." Hershel gave a sad smile. "It's all on you, but whatever happens, we're always on your side. It's important you understand that."

Daryl opened his mouth to complain he never asked to make that kind of decision when there was the sound of raised voices coming from the direction of the courtyard. He could clearly hear Glenn shouting and Merle's mocking voice. "Crap," Daryl swore.

"You'd best go, son," Hershel prompted him. "That don't sound it's going to end peaceful like."

Daryl grimaced and jumped up, running back up the stairs into the prison so he could make his way to the courtyard. He got there just in time to see Glenn violently shove Merle.

His brother quickly recovered his footing, expression hardening. "Now then, boy, you best not be startin' somethin' I'll be finishin'."

"Glenn, stop this, please," Maggie pleaded with him, her expression distressed.

"You shouldn't be alone with him!" Glenn raged, not taking his eyes off Merle as he glared at him fiercely. "And you, you need to stay the hell away from her!"

Merle swaggered up closer to the fuming younger man. "I was just checkin' that there were no hard feelin's 'bout how we first made our acquaintance," he drawled. "I thought it was only right that I apologise for bein' a bit heavy-handed at our first meetin'." Merle looked at Maggie. "Now then, missy, you tell your uptight boyfriend here that all I did was apologise to you."

Daryl watched Maggie look suddenly uncomfortable as she was forced to agree with Merle. "It's true, Glenn. Merle was only apologising to me."

"Merle never only does anything," snapped Glenn. "He's trying to mess with you. He's trying to mess with us all!"

"Settle down," Daryl warned him roughly. "Seems to me like somethin' is bein' made out of a whole lotta nothin' here. Ain't no need for all of this."

Glenn turned his anger on Daryl. "That's easy for you to say," he snapped. "What if Merle had turned up here with a knife to Carol's neck, scaring her half to death, giving her nightmares-"

"Glenn," said Maggie, clearly unhappy at having that piece of private information public knowledge.

"It's true," said an unrepentant Glenn before he turned his attention back to Daryl. "Are you telling me you wouldn't care if Merle stuck a knife to Carol's throat, Daryl? Or is that how you rednecks like to party, terrorising helpless women?" he finished off bitterly.

"Glenn!" gasped Maggie disapprovingly.

Daryl's jaw hardened. The mental image of Merle threatening Carol that way was a disturbing one and he quickly banished it from his thoughts but it had made Glenn's point. He understood the other man's issues with his brother, but this was not the way to go about things with Merle. Backed into a corner, Merle would always come out swinging. "The past is in the past," he bit out. "I say we leave it there and get on with the here and now."

Glenn gave a disgusted snort. "Until that past comes back and shoots us in the head while we sleep, you mean."

"I ain't lookin' to shoot anyone," said Merle easily. "It's a waste of bullets. If anythin', I'd slit your throats while you were sleepin'."

"Shut up, Merle!" barked Daryl, glaring at his brother for that crack.

Merle held up his hand and chuckled. "I'm just playin', man. No harm, no foul."

"And you wonder why I don't want him around," said Glenn in revulsion.

"Geez, lighten up, kid," said Merle jovially. "You'll live longer."

"Not if you have anything to do with it," threw back Glenn. "We all know what you're up to. You're not going to get the jump on us."

Merle just smiled. "Well, clearly you're too smart for me, Mr. Ching Chong Man. You've seen right through me and my evil master plan. I guess there is nothin' left for me to do 'ceptin' for crawl away, tail between my legs." He leant closer to Glenn, expression hardening. "I don't recommend you stand around waitin' on that to happen though. I reckon you'll have quite the wait ahead of you."

"Merle, we're goin'," said Daryl sharply, seeing Glenn was about to explode again. "We need to do another hunt before the sun goes down."

Merle looked Glenn over insolently and then glanced at Daryl. "Whatever you say, bro. You know I'm all about the communal livin' these days. And seein' as the Dixon brothers are the only ones who can put fresh meat on the table, I guess y'all are dependin' on us." He smirked. "I don't want to be lettin' anyone down now."

Glenn looked fit to explode as Maggie grabbed his arm and anxiously tried to get his attention. Daryl meanwhile had turned around and started to walk away, hoping Merle would fall in behind him before things got out of hand again. Sure enough, Daryl heard Merle's footsteps behind him as they walked back into the cellblock before making their way to the front entrance of the prison. Merle grabbed his shot gun along the way and Daryl already had his crossbow strapped over his shoulder as he strode off towards the gate.

"You pissy at me, little brother?" asked Merle laconically, falling into step beside him. "Did I embarrass you in front of your new, shiny friends?"

"Why does it always have to be this way with you?" threw back Daryl is frustration. "Why do you always have to drive everyone away? It was the same when I was a kid. None of my friends would come near our house when you were around 'cause you always ended up tormentin' them."

"I was makin' sure you weren't hangin' with a bunch of pussies," protested Merle. "I was lookin' out for you, boy."

Daryl grunted, having heard that excuse before. The thing was, Merle's looking out for him always ended up in isolation, humiliation or abuse, and sometimes, if he was really lucky, all of them at once. "I didn't need your kind of lookin' out for, not then and I sure as hell don't need it now."

"You outgrowed your big brother, is that what you're tellin' me?" asked Merle sharply.

Daryl whirled around to face Merle, the overwhelming frustration of the situation finally getting to him. "I'm tellin' you that this group, bein' in the prison, it's our best chance at survival and all I see you doin' is tryin' to screw that up!" said Daryl angrily. "That ain't you takin' care of me, Merle. That's just you swingin' your dick around like you always have, showin' everyone what a big man you are." Daryl's face was set in real anger. "Only thing is, you're the big man who always walks away when things get tough, leavin' me to fend for myself in the mess you made." Daryl jabbed a finger at his chest. "That ain't happenin' this time, man. I ain't gonna let you ruin one more thing for me." He was breathing unevenly after that tirade, eyeing Merle warily at how he was going to react to his outburst. Merle wasn't used to him getting in his face and Daryl didn't know how he was going to react.

Instead of anger though, Merle surprised him with a wry little smile. "Look at you, all full of piss and vinegar." He gave a dry laugh. "Anyone ever tell you what you were like when that old bitch of a mother of ours brought you home from the hospital?"

Daryl scowled, thrown off by the abrupt change of topic. "What?"

"For the first two months, you didn't cry, at all," recollected Merle. "It weren't natural. The old lady was even worried enough to take you to a doctor and make sure you weren't a retard or somethin'." He tapped his forehead. "Ya know, soft in the head."

"I get it," said Daryl flatly.

"The quack said you were fine and damn, if like a week later you didn't open your mouth and started screamin' like someone was skinnin' you alive." Merle chuckled. "Which the old boy considered by the sixth straight day of you bellowin' like a mule." He shook his head. "Nothin' would shut you up." Merle half-smiled. "Ceptin' me. I'd sing to you and you'd quiet right down. No one else had the touch, only me."

Daryl was taken aback, trying to imagine his brother singing to a baby. "I don't remember that."

"Of course you don't," said Merle easily. "You were crappin' in your pants and suckin' on your mamma's teat all day. You ain't likely to remember stuff like that." He regarded Daryl steadily. "See, that's how I knew we had somethin' special, right from the beginnin', little brother. Mine was the only voice you listened to, cause you knew, even then, that I was the only one who was lookin' out for you in that crap hole of a house we grew up in." Merle took a step closer. "You and me, we got stories," he said quietly. "I'm the only brother you have, and you can hate on me if you want, but that ain't gonna change the blood which flows between us." He glanced back at the prison. "They think you got ties to them." Merle spat on the ground. "They don't know shit about ties." He put his hand on Daryl's shoulder and gripped it tightly, bringing them in closer so that Daryl's forehead was against his. "We done the time together, we outlived those pieces of crap parents of ours. It's us against the world, always has been, always will be. Everyone else is just passin' through and we ain't got no claim to them and they ain't got no claim to us. That's just how it is, and if you think any different, then you've gone soft in the head." With a last squeeze of Daryl's shoulder, Merle was letting go and stepping back. "Come on, little brother," he said cheerfully, "we got squirrels which ain't gonna kill themselves." Merle started to head off, obviously deciding the conversation was over. He stopped and looked back over his shoulder when Daryl didn't immediately follow. "You with me or what, man?" Merle asked.

Daryl really wished he had the answer to that question, more confused than ever now. His ambivalent feelings towards Merle chased themselves around in Daryl's head until he thought this whole skull would simply fracture open and spew out all of his confusion and conflict out for all to see. Hell, it'd almost be a relief at this point.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl's eyes snapped open as he felt a light touch on his arm. His muscles bunched, ready to lash out, but suddenly Carol's voice was in his ear.

"We need to talk."

Her whispered breath tickled the hairs around his ear and caused a little uncontrolled shudder to run through Daryl's body. He lifted his head from the backpack he used as a pillow and sent a quick glance over at Merle. His brother was fast asleep on the other side of the area they'd marked off as their own.

"He's asleep," Carol reassured him.

Daryl blinked up at her, trying to clear the sleep from his eyes. Carol seemed almost luminescent in the moonlight streaming in from the window at the top of the cellblock.

She took his hand. "Come on," she said softly. Carol tugged on his hand and Daryl found himself obediently rolling to his feet. She didn't let go of his hand as she led him down the stairs of the sleeping quarters, past all the sleeping people inside their cells. Carol was slightly ahead of him as she continued to walk, navigating them out of the cellblock and towards the catacombs of the prison.

"We're headin' for the tombs," Daryl whispered. "We gotta stop. It ain't fully secured down there."

"It's alright," Carol assured him. "We need to talk and we need to be alone."

Daryl's stomach flip flopped nervously at that, fear striking at his core. He didn't know what Carol was going to say to him and at this point he didn't even know what to hope for. All Daryl knew was that he had no willpower to do anything other than follow her lead.

"We're almost there." It was dark in the tombs, just little stray strands of light finding their way down to the depths they were wandering around in.

Suddenly Carol's hand slipped from his. "Carol," he said, slightly panicked as he squinted through the gloom, trying to catch sight of her. "Carol, where are you?"

"I'm right here." Her voice came to him from a little up ahead.

Daryl frowned. "Come back here, it's easy to get lost. We gotta stick together."

"Then why don't you come here?" Her teasing invite had Daryl nervous.

He walked forward, hand running alongside the wall beside him so that he didn't get turned around in the dark. One hand was stretched out in front of him, moving around and looking for Carol.

"You're getting colder," came Carol's sing song voice.

Her voice was behind him now and Daryl spun round, not able to believe she'd managed to get past him. "Carol, quit foolin' around," he said sharply.

"But isn't that why we're here?" she teased him. "To fool around?"

Daryl swallowed hard, not understanding this game Carol seemed to be playing. "N-no, of course not," he growled. Even to his own ears that denial didn't sound particularly convincing.

"Do you want to kiss me?" her disembodied voice asked huskily.

"No," said Daryl too fast, his voice cracking a little over the simple word.

Carol's face appeared in front of him, a few feet away, the rest of her body cloaked in shadows. "Do you want me to kiss you instead?"

"No," he rasped, eyes sliding unbidden to her lips. Daryl tore his gaze away from her but it was too late, the blood was already pounding through his body.

There was the light tinkering of Carol's laughter before she disappeared from view again. "Wanna know if I want you to kiss me?"

Daryl didn't answer this time, just tried to work out where she was now. He strained his ears, trying to pick up the sound of Carol's footsteps as she moved around but couldn't hear anything. Daryl jumped at the feeling of her hands on his back.

Carol pressed her body up against his, cheek against his back. "I do, I do want you to kiss me, Daryl." Her hands came out and touched his chest, before slowly starting to run down the length of his torso.

Daryl's stomach clenched tight as Carol's hands ran over them and then she was heading further south. His body was a riot of sensation at her touch and Daryl could feel his knees going weak. All he wanted to do was let Carol keep going on her southerly exploration but something wasn't right about all of this. Daryl grabbed at her hands, halting their progress. "Stop it," he rasped. "Why are you doin' this?"

"A woman gets lonely," came Carol's throaty reply. "She wants a man to hold her and make her feel special." She rubbed herself against Daryl's back, forcing him to squeeze his eyes close against the deliciousness of the sensation. "Don't you want to be that man, Daryl?"

Daryl's mouth had gone dry, speech seemed like an impossibility right then with the effect Carol was having on him. "I-I-"

"Or do I need to find myself a real man and not some little pussy who doesn't know what to do with a flesh and blood woman?" Carol's taunting words were accompanied with the removal of her body from his.

Daryl spun round, in shock at her cruel words, confusion running riot through his body. "Fuck you!" he said hoarsely.

"But isn't that the point?" her voice tortured him from the depth of the dark corridor. "You can't fuck me, hell, you can't fuck anyone. You're a waste of a dick."

Daryl's heart was pounding, knowing something was horribly wrong. Carol would never say those words to him. "Who are you?" he demanded to know, addled brain trying to work out what was happening. "What have you done with Carol?"

"I am Carol." She was up in front of him now, at the end of the corridor, standing in a pool of light. Suddenly Merle stepped out from the shadows and came up behind Carol. He wrapped a possessive arm around her chest and smirked at Daryl as he rubbed his cheek against hers. "But it's alright," she continued on conversationally, "I've found a real man now, so I don't really need you around anymore."

"Carol," he rasped in pain, shaking his head at the sight of them together like that.

Merle's smirk widened at seeing Daryl's distress and then suddenly he changed in front of Daryl's eyes, morphing into a Walker version of Merle who then promptly ripped Carol's throat out, spraying blood all over the walls and not even giving her a chance to scream.

"Merle, no!" Daryl yelled and tried to run to help Carol, but his legs wouldn't work. It was as though he was standing in molasses and he couldn't break free. A sharp pain in his knee had him hissing in pain and Daryl bent over to grab it and as he did, he jerked himself awake.

Daryl sat up on his mattress, covered in sweat and panting wildly. The blood was roaring in his ears as he stared up fearfully at the figure standing over him.

Merle arched an eyebrow at Daryl's frightened countenance. "I just gave you a nudge," he said, referencing the kick to the leg, "don't be a pussy 'bout it."

Daryl blinked the sweat out of his eyes, struggling to come back to reality.

"It's your turn on guard duty." Merle eyed off Daryl's lap where there was an obvious tent situation going on.

Daryl was suddenly aware of the state his body was from the memory of dream Carol rubbing herself all over him. His hands flew to cover himself up, but it was too late.

"You wanna beat off first, so you can aim straight if one of those biters end up comin' for you?" he offered up in amusement while Daryl tried not to writhe in embarrassment. Merle scratched his chest with his stump. "You called out my name," he observed casually. Merle's gaze flitted towards the condition Daryl was frantically trying to hide again. "I hope those two things ain't related. I know I said we got a bond, but I'm drawin' a line in the sand over wantin' to fuck each other. Hell, we ain't hillbillies."

Merle sauntered off to throw himself down on his mattress across the way, leaving Daryl's face flaming red and still trying to recover from the confusing nightmare he'd just experienced. It'd all been so horrifying real that it was proving hard to snap out of that dreamscape. Daryl bent over and rested his head against the cold metal floor. Fuck, these dreams were going to be the death of him.

At this point, that didn't sound like such a horrible fate.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N****: So, this is one of those chapters which could easily be on the show in as much as six characters all get some 'screen' time in three different conversations. I like having these bite sized chunks of interaction and dialog between characters in a chapter because if one convo isn't doing it for you, the might next. :D Ups the odds that folks will enjoy a chapter. ;) **

**I really love Merle in this chapter, mainly because he's being a total prick. LOL There is something about a bad boy. ;)**

**Don't think there is much else to say other than I'm hoping to have another chapter for you in the next day or two. I've got a day off. **

**Thanks as always for reading... toodles. :)**

**Chapter Twenty One**

Carol held up Judith's little frog-like legs as she slipped a cloth diaper under her bottom. The newborn was slowly starting to fill out a little with the constant feeds she was getting. During her pregnancy, Lori had been starving at least half the time and Judith had been born at no more than six pounds or so. It made Carol happy to see the baby already gaining weight. It had been such a rough start in life for the child and it was nice to see something positive happening for her. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught Carol's attention. "Rick," she called out to the figure which had just passed by Judith's cell, "come and kiss your daughter before you head out for the day."

Rick backtracked, and gave Carol a distracted smile. "Sorry, got a lot to do today. Wasn't really thinkin'."

Carol deftly finished pinning Judith's diaper and slipped a little singlet on over her head. "Don't tell me, tell her." She scooped up the baby and handed her up to Rick.

Rick took Judith in his arms and smiled down at the little girl who blearily blinked up at him. "Hey, little girl," he said huskily, "you gonna be a good girl for your Aunt Carol and Aunt Beth today?" Judith blew a bubble out the side of her mouth and waved a little fist about. "I'm takin' that as a 'yes, daddy', just so you know," he informed her teasingly. Judith caught hold of his finger and squeezed tightly. Rick gave a heavy sigh as he watched her.

"What was that?" Carol quizzed him as she tidied up the change area.

"I was just thinkin' how easy it is when they're little like this." Rick waved around the finger Judith was still clutching a hold of. "You just feed them, keep them warm and clean and that's all they need from you."

Carol straightened up and turned to face him, carefully scrutinizing Rick's face. "You and Carl having issues?"

Rick grimaced. "I don't know what's wrong with him lately. We just seem to fight all the time." He squeezed his eyes close and looked suddenly haggard. "Or maybe it's me. I just can't seem to relate to him these days. We're both pushin' the other away and I know that isn't my intent." Rick opened his eyes and made a regretful face. "It just seems to happen like that."

Carol nodded understandingly. "So much has happened to both of you, you've lost so much and this life-" she pulled a face, "it's not an easy one." Carol moved her shoulders a little restlessly. "Relationships can get complicated, even when you don't want them to." She couldn't help but think about Daryl as she said that. He'd avoided her all of yesterday and Carol wished she knew what was going on in his head. It concerned her anytime Daryl isolated himself from the group and particularly from her. What was even more concerning was that Daryl's isolation included Merle. No good could come of keeping consistent company with that man. Her lips pressed together tightly at the thought.

"What's on your mind?"

Carol lifted her gaze from Judith to look at Rick. She half-smiled. "I was just thinking about Daryl and Merle."

"Yeah," grunted Rick, "ain't much to smile about there." He grimaced. "I keep hopin' Merle will end up gettin' careless one day and stroll into a herd of Walkers comin' back from a hunt." Rick gave a lop-sided smile. "That ain't real noble of me, huh?"

A dry laugh passed Carol's lips. "I'd say that was a kind end compared to what some would like to see happen to him."

"Glennn."

"He's not handling Merle bein' around well." Carol sighed. "At all. I'm worried about him." She wrinkled her nose. "And you and Daryl."

"That's a lot of worryin'," noted Rick wryly.

"I know, I got it down to a fine art."

Rick looked down at Judith and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. Carol knew that was the sign he was about to choose his words carefully. He cleared his throat, attention still on Judith. "You know, Daryl thinks highly of your opinion. If you were to-"

"I'm not asking Daryl to get rid of Merle," she interrupted him.

"He must know he has a choice to make," Rick argued. "Merle's not makin' an effort." He pulled a face. "Well, he is, but it's to get under everyone's skin."

Carol wish she could disagree. "Merle feels threatened by the group. He's pushing back because that's what he's done his whole life. It's the only coping mechanism he has."

"Maybe that's true," said Rick grimly, "but we ain't a home for the emotionally challenged."

Carol had to laugh at that. "Rick, there isn't one of us that hasn't come undone more than once in this past year. Our only savin' grace is that we tend to take turns at mental instability and the rest pull us through."

Rick glanced away briefly and made a frustrated sound. He looked back at Carol, expression intent. "I'm just sayin', if you just let Daryl know that you don't feel safe with Merle around and ask him to think about-"

"It won't work."

Rick wasn't letting this go. "I think you're underestimating the sway you have over Daryl. He thinks a lot of you. He'd do a lot to make you happy."

Carol couldn't help the little fissure of pleasure at hearing Rick say that about Daryl but that wasn't the point she was trying to make. She shook her head. "Rick, think about what you're saying."

"I am, and I think it's worth a shot."

"How long were you a Deputy Sheriff for?"

Rick blinked and looked taken aback at the sudden change in topic. "Ah, fifteen years, but I don't-"

"And how many domestic abuse cases did you see in that time?" Carol arched an eyebrow. "More than a couple, I'm guessing?"

"Unfortunately."

"And in all of those cases of abuse, when you came in and arrested a man for beating a woman to within an inch of her life, what percentage would you say of those battered women turned up the next day wanting to bail their man out of jail?"

Rick's jaw hardened.

"Well?"

"I can only think of a couple that didn't," he admitted reluctantly.

"Here's the thing about the cycle of abuse, it's just that, a cycle. You need more than just good intentions to stop it." Carol held his gaze steadily. "I was one of those women, Rick. I bailed that bastard husband out of jail more times than I can count. Hell, sometimes I was coming directly back from the hospital he put me in." She closed her eyes briefly, hardly able to comprehend the woman she'd use to be. Why had walking away seemed so much harder than fighting for survival every day? It was only now she was clear of all the violence and fear that Carol could see how things truly were. She'd always been a strong woman, to have survived that long with that kind of abuse, she had to be. At the time, she'd bought into Ed's lies of her being weak and worthless. Not anymore though. Carol knew with every fibre of her being she'd never let another man treat her that way. She felt Rick's hand on her arm.

"Carol, I'm sorry." She opened her eyes to see a contrite-looking Rick. "I never meant to bring up bad memories."

Carol smiled. "You didn't. My point is that none of us can rescue Daryl from Merle. Daryl has to want to be free of Merle because he realises that he doesn't deserve to be treated that way and never did. If we go about this any other way, it's not gonna last and it's gonna hurt Daryl a whole lot more than it needs to."

Rick was looking at her in amazement. "Were you always this smart or having I just gotten dumber?"

"Talk about your backhanded compliment," said Carol in exasperation.

"Okay, I got dumber," said Rick hastily, obviously realising how that sounded. "Sorry. And you're right, we can't force Daryl's hand. I should know that after all those years on the force."

"I think it's been a little while since you thought of yourself in those terms, Rick," said Carol astutely. "I know you've been struggling with how much of the old world's way of doin' things has a place in this new one." She put a hand out and captured one of Judith's little feet, playing with it absently. "But there was a lot about that old way, the old Rick, worth keeping." She looked up at him. "Just in case you were looking for an opinion on the matter, for what it's worth."

"Your opinion is worth a lot to me, Carol," said Rick quietly.

"Well, I've got another one." She didn't give him a change to enquire. "We all just have to hold on a little bit longer. I have faith in Daryl that he's gonna be backing himself real soon when it comes to Merle and I've got faith in you, Rick, to keep everyone calm until that happens." Carol's lips twisted in wry amusement. "And I've got faith in Merle he is going to shoot himself in the foot real soon, because that is what that man does."

"That's a lot of faith."

"Yes, it is."

"Care to lend some out?" asked Rick dryly.

Carol gave a little laugh. "For a reasonable fee. You'll see, Rick, it's all gonna work out just fine. We're due a win and this is gonna be it."

Rick sighed. "I hope you're right, Carol. I don't want to think about what might happen if you're not."

"Me either," admitted Carol. She talked a big game, but Carol knew there were still a lot of ways this could all go wrong. But she hadn't been lying, she did have faith in Daryl and as soon as he had some faith in himself, then things were going to get a whole lot better.

They had to.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl was crouched down on the floor, just finishing packing a couple of water canteens and food into his back pack, ready to go out on a hunt.

Merle was leant against the wall beside him. "Well, don't that just warm the cockles of your heart?" he asked sarcastically.

Daryl glanced up at him. "What?"

Merle pointed up at the walkway down the other end of the cellblock, where they had a view into Rick's cell. Daryl craned his head back and saw Rick holding Judith at the door of his cell, while Carol stood beside him. They were talking in low voices and standing close together.

"What?" repeated Daryl.

"Even you can't be so blind you can't see how they are together," observed Merle casually. "The sheriff and the widow are always off whisperin' to one another. It's as clear as day they got a thing goin' on."

Daryl straightened up, scowling as he threw the backpack over one shoulder. "Rick and Carol ain't like that," he said shortly. Even as he said the words, Daryl couldn't help but glance back at Rick and Carol and notice how close they were standing. A flash of a jealousy ripped through his body and Daryl was stunned at the fierceness of the unfamiliar emotion. His jaw hardened, not liking at how out of control it made him feel.

Merle snorted. "Course they are, boy, open your eyes. Officer Friendly needs a momma for that brat of his and you know that Carol is lookin' to be someone's momma." He sent Daryl a sly smile. "Other than you, of course."

"You don't know what the hell you're talkin' about," growled Daryl.

"I know what I see," shot back Merle. "You're like a pet project to that woman. She gotta be nice to you because you was all 'bout findin' her little girl. I know the type, bein' polite is like a disease to them. They ain't ever gonna tell you the truth straight to your face."

"You don't know Carol," snapped Daryl. "You don't know how she is."

"I know exactly how she is," said Merle indolently. "I met her kind all the time growin' up and so did you. Some do-gooder turnin' up on our doorsteps, lookin' to save us and then when it all got too real and too hard, they turned tail and ran back to their cosy little lives. We ain't charity cases, not back then, not now, we don't need nobody tryin' to save us."

"Carol's not lookin' to save anyone," said Daryl hotly. He could feel himself getting wound up, which he didn't want to do in front of Merle, knowing his brother would seize on it, but it was Carol, and Daryl couldn't help himself.

Merle snorted his contempt. "None so blind as those who won't see. I thought I raised you smarter than this."

Daryl's hand tightened on the strap of the backpack. "And just what exactly am I meant to be seein', Merle?" he bit out. "You got it all figured out, why don't you educate me."

Merle was still leaning against the wall, he scratched his stomach absently with the knife taped onto the end of his stump. "I already told you. Them two is lookin' to slot into each other's holes." His lips quirked. "So to speak. You know, the holes left by those loved ones that up and died on 'em."

Jealousy clawed at Daryl's insides at the thought of Carol turning to anyone other than him for comfort. It was stupid, they didn't owe each other any kind of emotional fidelity but Carol had his, whether she wanted it or not. Daryl couldn't even pinpoint the exact moment when he'd decided that only Carol could really be trusted with his emotions. He'd just woken up one day and that was how it was. In fact, it felt like that was how it'd always been somehow. Daryl hadn't questioned it, just accepted his instincts that Carol was the one person he'd be safe with. The thing was, he'd never thought to wonder what Carol was thinking. It had all been so natural, Daryl had just assumed that she was as drawn to him as he was to her. Merle's take on Carol just being polite was rattling him. He knew it wasn't true, but still, old insecurities were nipping at his heels and making Daryl feel anxious.

Merle was still talking. "I wonder where you fit in with that little love nest they're puttin' together?" He clicked his fingers, as though a thought had just occurred to him. "Oh, I reckon I know. You're the mean old junk yard dog they stick out on a chain in the front of the house to protect them. They throw you scraps, but you ain't ever gonna be let in the house, boy." He glanced over at the rest of the group who were finishing breakfast at the other end of the room. "Hell, ain't one of these fine upstandin' folk who care whether you live or die, baby brother." Merle leaned in closer. "Ain't nobody cares 'bout you ceptin' me. You'd do well to remember that, little man."

Daryl's face tightened and a muscle ticked in his cheek as he looked back at Carol and Rick. From where he was standing, he could see Carol put a hand on the other man's arm. It took him back to the other day, when he'd walked in on them in the generator, and Rick had been holding Carol's hand. He hadn't thought too much about it at the time, but now his fist clenched of its own accord. Suddenly Daryl couldn't watch anymore. He turned sharply on his heel and snatched up his crossbow. "You comin'?" he snapped. Daryl stalked out of the cellblock, not bothering to look back to see if Merle was following him. His stomach churned with jealousy while his head was a jumble of confused thoughts. The idea of killing things right about now was a welcome one. Daryl felt like making something pay for the way he was feeling right then.

**oooOOOOooo**

Glennn stood in the tower and looked through the scope of his rifle at Daryl striding across the field. The guy looked like he had a fire lit under him, the way he was taking such long steps, gaze fixed straight ahead. Glennn went to call out to him and wish him a good hunt but Daryl's stony expression told him it probably wasn't a good idea. Sweeping the rifle back a little, Glennn spotted Merle walking out of the cellblock at a much more leisurely pace, rifle slung over one shoulder. Glennn's jaw hardened as he saw the other man. On instinct, his finger found its way to the trigger of the high-powered rifle. Glennn kept Merle in his sights as the older man strolled across the field. It'd be so easy, all he'd have to do was move his finger less than an inch and the Merle problem would be solved, once and for all. Glennn actually felt his finger start to itch with the need to do just that. He narrowed his eyes, Merle still in the crosshairs of his scope. His finger tightened on the trigger, ever so slightly. Suddenly Merle turned his head and looked right back at him, a smirk on his face. They stared at each other and it was like Merle was daring him to do it from all the way across the field. A frustrated rage bubbled up in Glennn and he widened his stance a little, bracing the rifle more fully against his shoulder. Merle didn't think he had the balls to do this but Glennn knew better.

"What the hell are you doin'?"

Maggie's shocked question had Glennn tearing his eyes off Merle and immediately straightening up as he dropped the rifle down. He blinked at Maggie and the plate of food she'd brought up to the tower for his breakfast. "Nothing," he said too fast. "Just keeping watch like always."

Maggie slowly walked further into the tower and put the plate of food down on the ledge with careful deliberation. "Were you just fixin' to shoot Merle when I came in?"

Glennn opened his mouth to lie but then decided there was no point. "Would it be the end of the world if Merle wasn't around anymore?" he said coolly.

Maggie was looking at him in horror. "I can't believe you even have to ask that," she said unsteadily.

"Merle is a threat to the group," said an unrepentant Glennn. "He's unstable and volatile and shouldn't be here in the first place. No one seems like they can be bothered to deal with the situation. I was stepping up."

Maggies' look was disbelieving. "You call that steppin' up?"

Glennn shrugged but then couldn't hold her gaze. "Yeah, I do. I don't see why you have a problem with it, Maggie."

"Because it ain't right," she said, emotional tears filling her eyes.

"You're crying for that animal?" asked Glennn incredulously, fresh anger raising his voice more than he intended. "You've got tears for Merle Dixon?" He couldn't understand why no one else was taking the threat of Merle more seriously. Glennn felt like he was in one of those dreams where you were trying to shout a warning at people but no one could hear him, despite standing right there.

"No, you idiot," Maggie choked out, "the tears are for you."

Glennn was taken aback. "Me?"

"It's like I'm watchin' the man I love slowly die before my eyes," she said hoarsely.

"Maggie," said Glennn in shock, "I'm just trying to protect you."

"You're looking for revenge," Maggie corrected him darkly. She scrubbed at her eyes. "And I ain't gonna let you make me into some kind of justification for your anger. I dealt with what happened and you need to as well."

"I'm trying to," bit out Glennn.

Maggie squared her shoulders, her jaw set. "No, you're like a polecat in a net, just lashin' out at anythin' that comes close. This ain't you, Glennn. This ain't the man I fell in love with."

"After all that we've been through, on the road, in this prison, do you really expect me to be the happy go lucky pizza delivery nerd you first met?" he asked angrily.

"I expect you to still have that good heart I feel in love with," said Maggie quietly, her large brown eyes imploring him to listen. "Please don't go down this path with Merle," she begged him. "You think it's gonna give you peace, but it's only gonna take away who you are and I'm in love with who you are."

"Maggie," he groaned, "you don't understand."

"I understand just fine," she said coldly. "It's you who has to work this all out in their head. You need to find a way to let this go, Glennn."

"And if I can't?" he challenged her.

Maggie didn't reply, just gave him a hard, long look before turning away and walking back down the stairs. Glennn closed his eyes after she was gone and rubbed his face tiredly. Maggie didn't know what she was asking of him. He was doing this for her, for all of them, why couldn't anyone understand that? Glennn made a frustrated noise and kicked out at the unyielding wall of the tower walkway guard. All he got for his trouble was an aching foot. Nothing had been resolved and Glennn didn't see how it could be. They were sitting ducks, all content to sit around and wake for that snake, Merle, to make his move.

Glennn just couldn't understand it.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N****: And Merle's actions continues to wreck havoc in this chapter. Man, I have such fun with that character. :D **

**We're starting to move towards things coming to a head. After the next chapter is when everything goes up a notch, so enjoy this little lull before the storm while you can, oh gentle reader. ;) Not everyone is going to make it out of this story alive, so make sure you stay tuned to find out who makes it and who doesn't. **

**Sidenote: We're having a lot of issues with the power here, ATM. Lots of storms keep taking it out. I could have posted this chapter earlier, but no internet, so yeah, want are you gonna do, right? My point is, I'll try and get the next chapter to you in the next couple of days, the power and the muse willing. **

**See you soon... **

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Carl didn't look up from where he was sitting on the stairs and cleaning his gun as his father approached.

"Hey."

"Hey," returned Carl, still carefully cleaning his gun.

Rick shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I thought we could go on a patrol of the south fence together today."

Carl shrugged. "Okay."

"Carl, can you look at me when I'm talkin' to you?"

Carl reluctantly raised his gaze to look up at his father. He found it hard to be around his dad nowadays, unable to stop wondering what he was thinking. Did his dad really hate him for what happened with his mom? Was that all he saw when he looked at him, the way he'd shot his mother? Carl's stomach ached at the thought of his dad feeling that way about him but he didn't know what to do about it. He'd done what he thought his dad would have done. He'd told him no more kid's stuff and Carl had listened. He'd stepped up and done what his mom needed him to do. Carl's face darkened. He didn't know what else he was supposed to have done.

His dad glanced over his shoulder at Beth and Hershel, who were cleaning up from breakfast. He kept his voice low. "I thought it might be a good chance for us to talk."

Carl froze inside. "About what?" he asked hoarsely. Did his dad want to be alone with him to tell him that he'd done the wrong thing with what had happened when Judith was born? Carl's heart started to beat erratically in his chest. It was one thing to worry about it, but another to have your own father confirm it. Carl wasn't ready for that.

His dad rolled his shoulders, head going to one side. "I dunno, whatever you want to talk about, I reckon."

Carl tried to hide his panic. "I ain't got nuthin' to say," he blurted out. The words had come out unintentionally harsh but Carl couldn't help it.

A frown marked his father's features. "Well, maybe I got somethin' to say."

This really frightened Carl. "I can't go with you to do the patrol. Daryl said he'd do more trackin' with me today."

There was a fleeting look of annoyance. "I'm sure Daryl won't mind if you tell him you've got somethin' else to do. You can learn more trackin' another day."

"I gave my word," said Carl stubbornly. "A man ain't meant to break his word. You taught me that."

He gave a little laugh. "Yes, but-"

"But what?" asked Carl, going on the defensive. "I ain't a man, is that what you were gonna say, Dad?"

His father looked a little taken aback, but he didn't immediately disagree with him.

This frustrated Carl, not knowing what the older man wanted from him. "Well, I ain't a boy neither. So, what am I, Dad? What do you want me to be?"

His dad just stared at him, seemingly lost for words. That didn't make Carl feel good.

"Hey, Rick, you best come check on this." Axel was suddenly in the doorway, calling for Rick's attention.

His dad was still staring at Carl with a deep frown on his face, not even turning around. "Can't it wait?"

"Ah... it's the sewage pump, so, ah, no, probably best to jump on it quick like before we're all neck deep in you-know-what," said Axel.

His father turned around to look at Axel and made an annoyed noise. "What happened?"

"Shit happened." Axel grinned, his blonde moustache jiggling a little. "Get it? It's a joke." He took in Rick's stony expression. "Although not everyone is a fan of toilet humour, I see. No accountin' for taste."

His dad was addressing him again. "We'll talk about this later, Carl."

Carl didn't meet his gaze, looking at a spot on the floor instead. "Whatever." He was conscious of his dad staring at him for a minute longer and then he was leaving, issuing Axel a curt command to keep up. Carl absently fiddled with his gun, lost in thought. A light hand touched his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Carl looked up and forced a smile to his lips for Beth's benefit. "Yeah, sure."

"You and your dad looked a little tense," she observed sympathetically. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Carl opened his mouth, tempted to blurt out his worries to Beth but then closed it again. He didn't want the girl he was in love with knowing what a screw up he was. It was bad enough he knew. Carl shook his head. "Ain't nuthin' to talk about, I'm fine." Once again his answer was curter than he intended and a brief look of hurt flitted across Beth's face.

"Oh, okay. I just thought I'd ask." She removed her hand from his shoulder and Carl immediately felt bereft without it as Beth walked away. He wanted to call out to her and try and explain it wasn't her, it was him, but that kind of eloquence failed him. Instead Carl was stuck on that step, watching Beth walk away from him. It just made everything feel a hundred times worse.

Daryl chose that moment to walk through the door, his crossbow over one shoulder and a small, brown sack in the other.

"How was the hunt, son?" asked Hershel, looking up from where he was stacking dirty dishes.

"Got us a few squirrel and rabbits," replied Daryl. "Lotta Walkers out there at the moment. Huntin' was hard. We had to go deeper out into the forest to git 'round 'em."

"We figured it was somethin' like that seein' as you and Merle were gone overnight," piped up Beth.

Daryl held out the sack to her. "Here. You said you were runnin' out."

Beth walked over and took the sack, smiling as she looked inside. "You got us more berries," she said happily. "Thank you, Daryl." Beth gave him a quick peck on the cheek for his trouble.

Daryl scowled and looked uncomfortable at the attention. "Weren't nuthin'," he said roughly. "Can't stand listen to y'all bitch 'bout your hair not bein' just right. Drives a man crazy listenin' to y'all carry on like it's the end of the world."

"It's a girl thing," said Beth breezily. "We don't get to have much of those these days." Her face lit up. "So, thank you again, Daryl."

Daryl just grunted in response.

Carl had been watching the whole exchange and was in an even darker mood now. Watching Beth kiss Daryl like that bugged him. It also bugged him that Daryl could put that kind of smile on Beth's face. Merle's warnings about Beth falling for Daryl came back to him and Carl was immediately filled with jealousy as Daryl walked up to him.

Daryl gave a little nod of acknowledgement to him. "We doin' this trackin' thing today or what?"

"Sure you can spare the time?" Carl bit out. "You don't got more berries to collect?"

Daryl looked him over, taking in the way Carl was bristling a little, but didn't comment on it. "You collect too many at once, they rot," he said calmly. "Don't make no sense."

"I guess I gotta take your word for it," said Carl sarcastically. "Seein' as you're the King of the Berries now." He knew he was being stupid and childish but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. It was like he'd been taken over by his jealousy and words were just spilling out all over the place. Carl expected Daryl to call him on his rudeness but instead, the older man seemed unbothered.

"Get a canteen of water, we'll be out for a bit. Lots of Walkers mean lots of tracks to follow. Let's see if you remember anythin' I taught you so far."

"We're goin' outside the fence?" asked Carl in surprise, remembering how adamantly Daryl had been against it last time.

"That a problem?"

"N-no," said Carl quickly. He stood up. A part of him suddenly realised that spending some time with Daryl might give him give him a chance to nip any thoughts of a hook up with Beth in the bud. Carl wasn't going to miss out on that kind of opportunity. "I'll get my stuff."

**oooOOOOooo**

Merle leant against the door into the generator room and watched Carol as she worked intently away on the generator motor she was putting back together. His eyes ran over her speculatively. Merle hadn't had a real chance to talk to Carol one on one yet. He'd preferred to circle around a problem before jumping in, working out the best angle to attack from but with Carol that had proven harder than with the others. Everyone else had their insecurities out for the whole world to see. With Carol, it was trickier. The woman seemed to be in the zone these days, no obvious insecurities to play upon. Merle knew she was worried about him and Daryl, but she hadn't shown any kind of worry about her relationship with Daryl at all. Not like his little brother. He'd known exactly what he was doing when he'd rattled Daryl's cage over the possibility of romance between Rick and Carol. Trouble was, Carol didn't have the same kind of concern over Daryl. From the looks of it, Carol had seemed to come through the turbulence of the last year with a newfound self-confidence, one that appeared hard to shake. But then, appearances could be deceptive and Merle was intending on seeing what he could shake loose from this one.

"If you stand there any longer, I'm gonna be charging admission." Carol didn't look up as she said that, just kept working on the motor.

Her casual observation caught Merle a little off-guard. She hadn't given any outward sign of being aware he was there. This one was a sneaky one alright. He pushed himself away from the door and sauntered into the room. "I didn't want to interrupt. You looked all caught up in what you were doin'."

"I'm female," said Carol casually. "We can do more than one thing at once."

Merle chuckled. "I noticed that. It's a might unnervin'."

Carol still hadn't looked at him, but an eyebrow arched. "Are you tellin' me I unnerve you, Merle?"

Merle pulled up a crate and sat down in front of Carol. He cocked his head and gave her a considered look. "You intrigue me." Merle was ready to try some honesty and saw where that got him.

Carol made a little snorting sound. "You intrigue easy."

"You see, that's the thing," said Merle intently. "I don't."

Carol finally looked up and met his gaze steadily. "Is that meant to make me feel special?"

"Does it?"

"I've intrigued Merle Dixon." Carol said the words out loud while she appeared to roll the idea around in her head. "Nope," she said after a moment's pause, "nothing warm and tingly there."

Merle half-smiled. "You're kinda hard on a man's ego, you know that."

"I wasn't aware your ego could be so easily bruised." Carol turned her attention back to the motor.

"It never used to be," said Merle, affecting a quiet voice, "but as things happen to you as you get older-" he took a moment to look at his stump and pulled a trouble face, "well, you get dents in the armour, you know what I mean?"

Carol straightened up and leant back against the wall behind her. "Seriously?" she challenged him. "You're playing the pity card? Are you kiddin' me?"

"I lost a hand," Merle protested. "I reckon that should get me somethin'."

"You didn't lose it, you knew exactly where you left it," said Carol with a casual lack of sympathy. "You cut off your own hand both literally and figuratively up on that roof and we're all meant to cry tears of blood for you? Mister, you're barkin' up the wrong tree with this group after what we've been through together."

"A little regret from y'all would go a long way to healin' this hurt," said Merle, intrigued with Carol's lack of concern. Out of all of the group, he'd figured her to be one he could pull on the heartstrings. That didn't seem to be the case at all.

"We regret that you're an idiot," she offered up sweetly. "Does that count towards anythin'?"

Merle wasn't giving up, enjoying the fact Carol wasn't backing down. "I lost a hand, woman," he said stubbornly. "I deserve some kind of recompense."

Carol pursed her lips. "I guess I can see your point," she said straight-faced. "I bet you did all your favourite things with that hand."

Her innocent sounding comment was anything but and Merle couldn't help the cackle of laughter at Carol's dig. "You mouthy little bitch," he said in amusement. "Now, here was I thinkin' you were all sweet and innocent and you go and say somethin' like that to a man."

"I'm hardly fresh out of the convent, Merle," she replied dryly. "I know men and I know their habits."

"Like you know my brother's?" he countered.

"Nice segue way," she applauded him easily. "Guess we're down to what you really wanted to talk about now, hmm?"

Merle wasn't to be distracted. "Daryl don't form attachments easy."

"I wonder why that is?" observed Carol mildly.

"That'd be my fault, would it?" he challenged her.

"You're intent on makin' yourself the centre of Daryl's world and the upshot of that means you get to own all of his idiosyncrasies," pointed out Carol unflinchingly. "Or am I not understanding how things work in that little world you've created in your head."

_This one was a clever one alright_. Merle wondered how he'd missed it the first time they met. "Daryl is his own man."

"You mean the man you tried to create in your own image?" she threw back at him.

It was amazing to Merle how fearless Carol was being with him, when he used to watch her cower in front of that knuckle-dragging husband of hers. If he wasn't seeing it with his own eyes, Merle wouldn't have believed it possible.

Carol wasn't done yet. "Daryl gets to be his own man as long as it's the kind of man you approve of. If he dares to step outside the 'Merle-sanctioned' ideals of a man, then well, there's hell to pay, isn't there?"

"You think you know my brother?" he mocked her. "You don't know shit about what he's capable of. You think he's some kind of reformed saint who's gonna carry you off to your happy eva after? Hell, woman, I bet he never told you what we were really doin' when we hooked up with y'all in that quarry?"

"You mean the fact you two were intendin' on robbin' us?" she said easily.

Merle eyed her sceptically. "Daryl told you that?" He couldn't believe that.

"Gee," she said mockingly, "let's think about that. Two backwater rednecks turn up wantin' to play nice with a group of families when they clearly coulda survived on their own. There was nuthin' suspicious 'bout that at all."

"So, Daryl didn't tell you what we were plannin'?" It was an important point for Merle. He needed to know how deeply connected Daryl was to this woman. His brother never let anyone in and it was obvious Daryl was already more deeply caught up in Carol then anyone other woman Merle had seen him with.

"Truth be told, you did."

Merle's eyebrow's shot up. "Me?"

"The night before you and the others headin' into Atlanta. I overheard you talkin' with Daryl and tellin' him to wait on you comin' back before makin' your move."

"You were eavesdroppin'?" he asked in disbelief.

"I was coming back from using the toilet," Carol explained. "Apparently I have a habit of sneakin' up on folks." She gave a little smile. "Someone told me I need to start whistlin' when I walk about."

"And you didn't tell anyone?" asked Merle sceptically.

"There was no point after you left and I was gonna tell Shane but when you didn't come back and then the attack happened-" Carol trailed off. "Well, it all seemed kinda moot by then."

"'Ceptin' that folks might have wanted to know the kind of man taggin' along with them when you hauled ass to the CDC."

Carol's look was unconcerned. "People knew what kind of man Daryl was soon enough. They didn't need me to tell them."

"I wonder if everyone would agree with you?" said Merle coolly. "You took a lot on yourself."

"We were all different back then," said Carol calmly, appearing not to be fazed by the vague threat in Merle's words. "And we've all changed so much." She looked at him intently. "Everyone 'ceptin' you, of course. You've stayed just the same."

"Like you know the first thing about me to know if I've changed or not," he scoffed. "We didn't know each other from shit."

Carol gave a sad little smile as she returned to putting together the motor. "I know you, Merle. I knew you the moment I laid eyes on you." A dry, humourless laugh passed her lips. "We were married for fourteen years."

"You gone soft in the head?" asked Merle in annoyance. "We ain't been married." A sly look came across his features as he tried another angle. "Although, if you're offerin' me some conjugal rights, I ain't sayin' no. You may have a few miles on the clock, but that ass of yours still looks nice and firm to me. I reckon I've had worse."

"Sexual intimidation," she mused. "You really are bringing out your whole bag of tricks, aren't you, Merle." A knowing smile curved Carol's lips. "If I didn't know better, I'd say I had you rattled."

"Just as well you do know better then," he shot back.

"Just as well," she said composedly.

Merle sized up the woman in front of him. "So, that's how it's gonna be, hey, missy?" he challenged her. "A battle of wits between us?"

"I hope not," said Carol simply. "I hate to fight an unarmed man." Her gaze drifted to his stump. "Or a one-armed one for that matter."

"That smart mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one day, woman," Merle warned her, even though he was still enjoying their banter.

Carol looked him straight in the eye. "I earned this smart mouth, Merle, and my opinions. I earned them with blood and suffering and loss and I'm damned if I'm gonna apologise to you or anyone else for them." Her gaze was unflinching. "Your brother is a good man with a good heart and you can either choose to appreciate that 'bout him or you can choose to drag him down to your level. You keep tellin' us that no one has Daryl's best interests at heart more than you. Well, you ask yourself, Merle, what is gonna make Daryl happy?"

Merle's lips tightened. "You think the hold you have over Daryl is more than what we share? Is that what you're askin' for me to admit to?"

"You see, that's the big difference between you and me, Merle. I'm not lookin' to have a hold over Daryl at all. I want him to be his own man."

"And what if that man chooses to be with me?" Merle threw back at her. He smirked. "Oh wait, you don't think that is gonna happen, do you? You think this new Daryl is gonna choose you over me, given half a chance."

"I'd say that's what you're afraid of, not me," said Carol, not missing a beat. "Otherwise why would you be down here, tryin' to get under my skin anyway you can?"

Merle sat back and eyed Carol speculatively.

"We don't have to be enemies in all of this," Carol cautioned him. "I don't want that and neither does Daryl. It's all down to you, Merle. You can either accept that Daryl has more people in his life who care for him other than you, or-"

"Or?"

"Or you don't and continue to make everyone's lives a misery." She looked at him intently. "You could be a real part of this group, if you wanted to."

"Those people ain't ever gonna accept me," he said dismissively.

"They could, as soon as you stopped tryin' to piss on everythin' and prove you're the top dog," she countered.

"You think that's what I'm doin'?" he asked coolly.

"You tellin' me you ain't?"

"Well, shoot, looks like you got me all figured out, missy." Merle kept his face carefully neutral. "I guess I can see what you're sayin'. You've given me a lot to think 'bout, that's for sure."

"I hope so," said Carol quietly, even though she didn't look entirely convinced. "For Daryl's sake."

"You're in love with him, ain't ya?"

Carol blinked and it was the first time Merle had gotten any kind of traction on one of his comments with her. She recovered quickly. "Of course I love Daryl, we all do."

Merle knew Carol understood he hadn't meant that kind of love and they both knew it. Her quick deflection told Merle he finally had found a kink in Carol's armour. The only question now was what was he going to do with it?

Merle already had a few ideas...


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N****: Hellish week at work (two cancelled days off), so way behind on paying attention to this story. Many apologies. **

**I think I had a lot to say about this chapter, but nothing is coming to me right now, so I'll just keep it short and let you read. **

**Hope you enjoy... **

**Chapter Twenty Three**

Daryl pointed to the ground in front of them. "See, see that print?"

Carl crouched down beside the partial mark of a man's shoe in an area of mud. "Yeah."

"What do you notice 'bout it?"

Carl tilted his head and looked carefully. "Looks like a bit of the heel is missin'."

Daryl was standing beside him. "That there's Merle boot print. He's lost a piece out of his right shoe heel. You should be able to track him easy now, follow where we went yesterday." Daryl looked up and glanced around at the woods. "Keep an eye out but, a couple a new herds went through here yesterday. Those Walkers are on the move again."

"Where do you think they think they're goin'?" asked Carl curiously as he kept his eyes trained on the ground, looking for Merle's next boot step.

"Walkers don't think," replied Daryl, walking beside Carl as the boy tracked their way slowly through the woods.

"But they come together in herds," Carl argued, still intent on reading the ground in front of him. "They kinda gotta have some kind of thinkin' goin' on. I remember Miss Daley tellin' us 'bout bacteria in science class and how even though they don't got a brain, they can talk to each other and organise themselves to do the same thing at the same time, like get resistant to some antibiotics."

Daryl glanced at him at that bit of surprising information. Hell, no wonder there was some kind of zombie apocalypse if something that tiny and in such big numbers was so smart. "Guess it's just some kind of instinct then."

"I guess," said Carl thoughtfully.

Daryl watched Carl follow Merle's tracks, impressed at how quickly the boy was picking the skill up. "That's a funny thing to remember from school," he commented idly. Daryl didn't remember too much from school even though he'd enjoyed it. Anything to get him out of that house was alright by him.

"I liked Miss Daley, she was pretty." Carl snuck a look at Daryl who was looking into the woods now, checking for Walkers. "You know who else I think is pretty?"

Daryl made a distracted grunt, eyes narrowing as he peered into the thick trees up ahead. He thought he'd heard something and his hand tightened on his crossbow. A squirrel ran out of a clump of bushes up ahead, took one look at them and turned tail and ran back into the protection of the undergrowth. Daryl relaxed, dropping the front of his crossbow a little.

"Carol."

Daryl looked over at Carl sharply. "What?"

"I think Carol's pretty," said Carl, looking up at him intently. "Don't you?"

Daryl didn't know why Carl was suddenly asking him about Carol. "I thought we were trackin'," he said gruffly, "not jawin' 'bout nothin'."

"So, you don't think Carol is pretty?" Carl pushed him.

Daryl moved his shoulders restlessly. "I don't think 'bout it." It wasn't an exact lie. Carol was more than just an outward appearance to him. She was a whole mess of feelings and thoughts that coloured everything to do with the way Daryl looked at her.

"I mean, I know she's got short hair an' all, but that don't mean she ain't pretty," continued on Carl quickly.

Daryl scowled. "What's her hair got to do with anythin'?"

"I know some guys like long hair, but Carol has real pretty eyes and a nice smile."

Daryl just stared at him, not sure where this was going.

"You like her, don't you?" Carl asked hesitantly.

Daryl's scowl deepened. Was he that obvious with his feelings about Carol that a kid could see it? Seeing as he was still trying to work out what those feelings were and what to do about them, it was unnerving to think everyone knew that he was out of his depth. His feelings about Carol were private and with the way they were all living in each other's pockets nowadays, privacy was a rare commodity. "Do you want to do this thing or not?"

"It's just that it's obvious that Carol thinks you're real special too," continued on Carl, oddly relentless about this for some reason.

Daryl didn't want to be drawn on the subject, but he couldn't help it. "Did she say somethin'?" His nerves tightened, not even sure what kind of answer he wanted Carl to give. All Daryl knew was that he liked the thought of Carol thinking he was special.

"She doesn't have to," said Carl blithely. "You know she's the closest to you out of everyone."

Daryl shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Carol gets on with all the group, even dumbass."

"Yeah, but she likes you best." Carl was looking up intently at him. "Do you like her best?"

Daryl was still trying to work out how to ask how Carl knew that Carol liked him best without asking directly, when the adolescent stumped him with that question. "I-ah-" Daryl cleared his throat. "I like Carol just fine."

"You should tell her," Carl prompted him.

"Tell her what?" asked Daryl, feeling a curl of fear at the idea of articulating any kind of deep feelings. That had just never gone well for him in the past.

"Tell her that you love her."

Daryl blinked and felt a fissure of fear at the idea. He'd never told anyone he loved them, not in his entire life, not even Merle. "Why would I do that?" he rasped.

Carl looked to be choosing his words carefully. "Cause, if it's true, you should say it, you know, so that they know and everyone else knows so if someone else comes along and says it later to one of you, then you've already said it first so that's what counts and everyone knows where they stand. Nobody gets confused that way."

Despite Carl's assertion to the contrary, Daryl was now thoroughly confused. He wasn't really sure what the boy was trying to say with that convoluted sentence. It seemed to him that Carl was trying to warn him that someone else had eyes for Carol, and that he should get in first. Daryl's hand curled into a fist as Merle's observations about Rick looking for a mother for his children came back to him. He knew Carol and Rick liked each other, but had never thought any more about it. Maybe Merle was right and Rick was looking to Carol to fill the space Lori had left in his life and maybe Carol wouldn't think that was such a bad idea. After all, Rick was the kind of man women fell for. He was an upstanding citizen who always tried to do the right thing and he'd already proven himself a good father and husband. What woman wouldn't want that? And what was he in comparison? Some emotionally-stunted redneck who'd never had a woman to call his own. What exactly would he have to offer Carol even if he decided that was what he wanted to do? Daryl's jaw hardened as a increasingly familiar wave of jealousy swept over him. Of course Carol would end up falling for Rick, it was only a matter of time, if it wasn't too late already. The thought made Daryl want to find Rick and punch him in his face. His eyes narrowed, imagining doing just that even knowing he was being an idiot in the process.

"Daryl?" Carl's concerned voice drew Daryl back to the present.

He focused on the boy. "What?" he asked roughly.

"You look funny," said Carl cautiously. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked sharply.

Carl shrugged. "Dunno." He hesitated. "I didn't mean to upset you none. I was just sayin', is all."

Daryl looked down at Carl, his expression tight. He knew Carl liked Carol but could understand why the boy wouldn't be too excited at the idea of someone moving into his mamma's bed seeing as it was barely cold. It had been just over a month since Lori's passing and Carl was obviously still reeling from how she died and his part in it all. Lori's death had been a hell of a thing for the kid to deal with and Daryl could see why he'd be protective of his father and their little family unit. Daryl knew he had to make a decision about his feelings for Carol and if he was going to act on them or not. The trouble was, everything seemed to be pressing in on him. With all of these deadlines, imagined or not, it was hard not to feel like they were suffocating him. He had to do something about Carol, he had to do something about Merle and the way those two things were all coming to a head made Daryl feel like he couldn't breathe. He didn't want to lose either one of them, but was fearful that by doing nothing, that was exactly what was going to happen. But then, if he did something and it was the wrong something, Daryl could lose them anyway. Suddenly Daryl had an appreciation of Carol's feelings of claustrophobia.

"Daryl, can I ask you somethin'?"

Daryl's first instinct was to yell 'NO!' in Carl's face. The kid was hitting too close to home with his questions and Daryl just wasn't ready for it. He made a noncommittal grunt instead.

Carl's young face was drawn into great seriousness. "Do-do you think my dad hates me?" he asked tentatively.

Daryl drew back a little shocked and then hit Carl on the back of the head on reflex, knocking his hat off.

"Why did you do that?" grumbled Carl as he bent to retrieve his beloved hat.

"You ain't stupid," said Daryl shortly, "so don't ask stupid questions, boy. Course you're daddy loves you."

Carl still looked troubled. "He's got a funny way of showin' it sometimes," he said unevenly.

Daryl's answer was sharp. "He ever whupped you till you passed out or put out his cigarettes on you?"

"N-no," said Carl hesitantly.

"Then you don't have shit to complain 'bout," said Daryl roundly. "He's doin' the best he can and that's a whole lot more than a lotta fathers out there. He's a good man, an honourable man." Which is why a woman would fall for him, he mused unhappily. Which is why Carol was already falling for Rick, without even realising it. Or maybe she did realise it and didn't know how to tell Daryl how she felt. The urge to punch something was back again.

"But maybe that's why he doesn't like me anymore," said Carl. His voice sounded so forlorn that Daryl looked at him with real concern. Carl avoided meeting his gaze. "Cause I shot my Mom and a good person wouldn't do that."

Daryl frowned. "You saved your mom the only way you had left. It was what she wanted, for you to look after your sister and you did that. Your dad knows why you did what you did and you gotta know it weighs on him."

Carl looked like he was fighting back tears. "It does?" he asked despondently.

Daryl made an impatient sound, but it was directed at himself, not at Carl. "That ain't what I meant. I meant Rick didn't want you to have to do that. He wanted to protect you, to be the one that did what needed to be done. Any fool can see that. If he has trouble sayin' that to your face, you gotta know it's because he feels guilty and not because he's mad at you."

Carl looked to be thinking about Daryl's words. "You-you really think that's how it is?"

"Of course it is," said Daryl curtly. "Why would you think any different?"

Carl gave a little shrug. "I don't know. Merle was sayin' that-"

"Merle?" Daryl interrupted him sharply. "What did Merle say?"

Carl pulled a face. "Nothin' really. Just that my dad might look at me and be thinkin' about what I did and that's why he's bein' like he is with me."

Daryl's jaw hardened at hearing Merle had been whispering in Carl's ear. It didn't surprise him, but it was just another sign that this whole thing wasn't going to work out like Daryl had been hoping. Merle was causing trouble, just like he always had with people Daryl had dared to make friends with. This time though, the stakes were too high to keep on ignoring it. "How's he bein' with you?" asked Daryl tightly.

"I dunno, like he can't stand bein' around me. Like I've done something wrong all the time."

"You dad has a lot on his mind. It don't mean that you ain't the most important thing in the world to him. You and Judith." Daryl shook his head at the boy. "Now, stop bein' a dumbass and listenin' to Merle and go and talk to you dad." Daryl couldn't help but think that was good advice for him too. It just seemed easier to give out advice then take it somehow.

"I guess you're right," said Carl reluctantly.

Suddenly Daryl tensed and he spun around as he heard a sound.

"What?"

Daryl put a finger to his lips to silence Carl as the boy went for his gun. The sounds of heavy footsteps not too far away had Daryl pointing in their direction and jerking his head in the opposite direction, silently telling Carl it was time to go. It was hard to tell how many Walkers were coming their way, but it was definitely more than one and Daryl wasn't about to be caught out, exposed like this. The two quickly turned around and started to run back towards the prison, keeping to the banks of the stream they'd followed out into the woods. After a few minutes, Daryl made them stop so he could listen for the sound of the Walkers behind them. He cocked his head, listening intently just as a Walker abruptly appeared ahead of them. Carl lifted his gun with the silencer on, but before he could fire, another Walker stepped out from behind a tree and grabbed Carl around the waist, lifting the boy off the ground.

Daryl lunged at the Walker, knife in hand and drove his blade deep into the man's head. The Walker spasmed, dropping Carl but spinning around in his death throes and falling onto Daryl. The two tumbled backwards, down the short but sharp embankment of the stream. Daryl lost hold of his crossbow in the process. He landed on his back in the shallow water, the rocks in the water bed biting into his back as the Walker landed on top of him with all of its dead weight. As Daryl had disappeared over the edge, he'd seen the other Walker coming up on Carl. Now Daryl was struggling to get out from under the now unmoving Walker's body, cutting up his back even worse as he fought to get back to Carl. He barely even registered the pain as he managed to shove the creature off him and scramble to his feet. Daryl raced back up the embankment just in time to see Carl dispatch the other Walker with calm efficiency.

He looked over at Daryl. "You okay?" Carl asked in hushed voice as he glanced over from where they'd just come, conscious of the other Walkers coming up behind them. He looked back at Daryl. "Your back, it's bleedin' bad."

Daryl twisted his neck to look over his shoulder and saw that his shirt was soaked with both stream water and bright red blood. It was dripping down his back and pooling at his feet. They both knew what that meant. Daryl was a huge 'come and get it' sign for any Walker within a quarter of a mile. "Head back to the prison," he said urgently. "Run, don't look back. You should have a clear go of it."

"What about you?" asked Carl in concern.

Daryl bent down and grabbed his crossbow. "I'll take the long way round, lead them outta the way. They'll come after me, give you a head start."

"I don't need a head start," said Carl stubbornly. "We can go together."

"You'll slow me down," said Daryl, knowing he had to be cruel to be kind. "Now get those short-ass legs of yours movin'. I'll see you back at the prison in a little bit." He nudged Carl with his crossbow. "Move," he said sternly.

Carl made a reluctant face but they didn't have time to argue. Daryl watched the boy turn around and run as fast as he could back towards the prison. He waited until Carl was out of sight and could hear the Walkers coming up behind him, before breaking into a sprint of his own. Daryl veered off towards the left more, leading them away from the path Carl took and could hear quite a herd behind him now. His adrenalin was pumping but Daryl's head remained calm and in control. You knew your life was a mess when running for your life from Walkers was a welcome relief to the other parts of your life he decided darkly.

_Irony sucked ass. _


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:**** To me, storytelling is all about justifications. **

**If I want to take characters to a certain place, I have to justify it in the build up and internal dialog going on with them. Basically, it has to make sense and any change in s/l direction has to be crafted. Case in point, at the beginning, I established the closeness Caryl have that we already see on TWD. Next step was to introduce a new element to their relationship... enter the embarrassing crawl space scene where a new dynamic was placed into their relationship for them to both circle around warily. We're at the point in the story now where another 'evolutionary leap', as it were, needs to be made. So basically, this chapter is very big on internal dialog to justify the next step in the story. **

**And come the next chapter, things are definitely going to be kicking off. ;) All the threads and ideas I've laid down are about to come to a head in the next couple of chapters and the proverbial you-know-what is going to hit the fan. It's a fun time for me as a writer (although, a bit daunting) as I've thrown all of these ingredients into a bowl, and now I get to see what it all comes together as. I know what I'm aiming for, but we'll see what the end product turns out to be. **

**On the subject of cliff hangers, I just want to say I've gone pretty easy on you as of late... something you should enjoy in retrospect because, after this chapter, a lot of things are going to be happening at once and yes, I envisage more than one cliff hanger in our immediate futures. LOL **

**Chapter Twenty Four**

Glenn leant back against the overturned bus on the edge of the prison field and cast a moody look out into the line of trees which surrounded the prison on his left. He'd been volunteering to do a lot more of the guarding duties because it meant he could be alone. The last thing he wanted to do was be around Merle and these days, whenever he and Maggie were together, they only seemed to fight. The corners of Glenn's mouth turned down as he thought about his recent conversations with Maggie. Why couldn't she see how dangerous Merle was? Why was he the only one trying to stop the inevitable blood bath coming their way? Glenn knew Merle had no intention of forgiving and forgetting anything and everyone else was pretending it was a possibility. It was like everyone had gone crazy except for him, like in one of those horror movies were people get overtaken by aliens. Everyone looks the same, but they're under the control of some alien life force. That's how Glenn saw Merle, like some parasite trying to destroy the group from the inside out. Trouble was, he was the only one taking it seriously.

Glenn couldn't help but wonder who was going to have to die before someone did take Merle seriously. His hand tightened on his rifle. All he knew was that it wasn't going to be Maggie. He'd happily die making sure that didn't happen but would be a lot happier again if it was Merle who ended up doing the dying. A flash of movement out of the corner of his eye had him snapping out of his dark musings as Carl burst from the line of trees, running at full tilt. Glenn reacted in kind, rushing to open first the inner gate and then the outer one, so he could usher the boy inside without any delay. A herd of Walkers were staggering out of the tree line now as Glenn quickly locked the fence behind the panting Carl. "What happened?" he asked urgently and then remembered Daryl had been with him. "Where's Daryl?"

Carl was bent over, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. "We-we got jumped by all these Walkers," he panted. Carl straightened up, face pink from his exertions. "They were everywhere. Daryl got hurt and he made us separate. He told me to come straight back here and he'd led the Walkers away."

Glenn looked out at the forest line nervously. "How bad was he hurt?"

"Just his back, it was all cut up and bleeding," said Carl unhappily. "He said he was fine, that he'd be right behind me." He looked over at the forest line anxiously too. "We shouldn't have separated."

"If Daryl said to separate, then that was the right thing to do," said Glenn firmly. "He knows what he's doing."

Carl walked over to the fence and slipped his fingers through the cross links, scanning the tree line. "Daryl can run faster than me," he said unevenly. "He shouldn't be far away now."

"We'll wait for him," said Glenn, putting more confidence than he felt into that statement. All it took was for one wrong move, one trip and the Walkers could have got the jump on Daryl but there was no point saying anything. Carl knew the reality of their life as well as anyone. All they could do was wait and hope Daryl's luck held. A few minutes ticked by and Glenn's nerves were starting to get tighter. "Maybe you should go and get your dad?" he suggested to Carl. "Just to let him know what's happening." There was no question that if Daryl didn't turn up soon, they were going to go and look for him and Glenn wanted to be ready.

"What's going on?"

So intent on looking outside the prison, neither one of them had noticed Oscar coming up behind them.

Glenn turned around to address him. "Daryl's out in the woods and he's hurt."

"We going in after him?" asked Oscar without hesitation.

Glenn half-smiled at the other man's willingness to look after the group. The large con had been a good find in amongst all those men with less than noble intentions. "We'll give it a few more minutes and see if Daryl comes out on his own but you can do me a favour."

Oscar nodded, not waiting to hear what the favour was. "Sure."

"I'm pulling double guard duty," Glenn explained. "I'm meant to be on the south gate now, relieving Axel. You mind taking my place instead?"

"You sure you don't want me out looking for Daryl?"

"We know the woods better," answered Glenn. "It'll be easier for Rick or me to go."

"I can go," said Carl quickly.

"I don't think your daddy is gonna sign off on that one," commented Oscar. He looked at Glenn. "But I can take your shift. Just call me if you need me."

"Thanks, Oscar," said Glenn gratefully. "As soon as Daryl turns up, I'll come and relieve you."

"Ain't no need," said Oscar in that low, rumbling voice of his. "You need to sleep sometime."

It appeared Glenn's sudden predilection for guard duty hadn't gone unnoticed after all. "Thanks," said Glenn, "I appreciate it."

Oscar nodded again. "Sure thing. Just let me know when Daryl gets back."

"I will," said Glenn and hoped that there wasn't going to be a long wait for that conversation.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol idly wrung out the shirt in her hands and added it to the pile of clean washing she was about to hang out. Her day had started early with Judith. Beth had been caring for the baby all night and Carol had wanted the girl to get a little sleep. Rick had been out on night guard duty, so Carol had tended to the little girl and gotten her settled, but by then, it was time to start a new day. She didn't mind though, it was good to be busy and simple work like this allowed her to think. After her conversation with Merle, Carol was more concerned than ever about Daryl. It was obvious to her that Merle wouldn't let go of his need to be the only family Daryl was allowed. Probably 'wouldn't' wasn't the right word, she pondered, more like couldn't. It seemed to Carol that Merle had spent his whole life trying to work out people and use their weaknesses against them, rather than truly examining his own issues. To that man it was less of a challenge to bend everyone else to his will, than to actually consider his own flaws and look to fixing them. Carol had no doubt that this was Merle's way of coping with the abuse he'd undoubtedly also suffered growing up in the same household as Daryl with an abusive father and negligent mother. It made sense to her because Merle was the oldest and he was meant to be the strong one, the leader and that was the identity he'd given himself. Daryl, meanwhile, assumed the mantle of the little brother, falling into line with the older brother, wanting to please him and following his lead.

But the enforced separation had caused a break in their relationship had changed a lot of things for Daryl.

By being part of the group, he now saw himself as more than just Merle's little brother. And that was something that Merle wasn't handling well because, while Daryl had gained something extra to his sense of identity by becoming a vital part of the group, Merle had lost something without Daryl's blind devotion. Carol understood Merle's desperation to reclaim that identity, but she also understood that ultimately Daryl wasn't going to be able to go back to the way things had been with Merle. She suspected Merle already knew this, but he wasn't one to give up something he considered his without a fight. Merle, for all of his tricks and cunning, had a limited repertoire Carol was discovering. Daryl's brother was like the man who was trying to communicate with someone how only spoke French and just chooses to speak English louder and slower, as though that was going to change anything. Merle was just going to use all of his tricks and take them to the nth degree rather than thinking of a different way to resolve this. Carol was more certain of that than ever before and she needed to tell Daryl that.

At the thought of talking to Daryl, she unconsciously bit her bottom lip, unable to help but think of their last real encounter. She'd been struggling with how being in his arms had made her feel so much, Carol actually hadn't stopped to think about what might have been going on with Daryl. Her default was to always keep her own emotions in check and in doing so, she hadn't really let her consider the possibility of what Daryl might be feeling. When she'd been struggling to nurse the fretful Judith back to sleep that morning, it had hit her all in a rush. The way Daryl had been holding her, the way he'd nuzzled her neck, he'd been looking for more from their relationship in that moment. Only he didn't have any way of telling her that. It had been a moment of stunning revelation for Carol. She'd just never let herself think that Daryl could look at her that way. He'd seen so much of her brokenness, seen her in her darkest moments, it was hardly romantic. But then, neither one of them was looking for romance she'd realised. They both wanted to feel safe and secure, to be known and understood by another person. Carol had never been so intimate with a man and she knew Daryl had never been so intimate with another woman. They were at a crossroads. Their relationship had become so intensely personal and involved, they could leave things as they were and know that they'd both have something deep and amazing for the rest of their lives to share, or, they could go for that brass ring, that last level of intimacy two people can share.

All morning, in between thoughts of worrying about Merle, Carol had been trying to decide whether the innocence they'd lose in their relationship by possibly introducing physically intimacy, would be worth it. What they had was so special, so untouched and pure, the thought of putting that at risk was an unnerving one for Carol. She hadn't been lying to Daryl that day when she told him she didn't want to lose him, that she didn't know what she'd do if she did. But then, when certain feelings had been stirred, where they both going to become dissatisfied with leaving things as they were and end up risking losing it anyway? Carol had been wrestling with that issue for hours now because she knew, ultimately, it was down to her. It didn't take a genius to work out that Daryl was completely inexperienced with any kind of romantic relationship. In many ways he was still like a child, stunted by all the horrors of his life, but trapped inside the body of a man. She was the one with experience, so it was up to Carol to navigate these suddenly choppy waters between them. Carol felt the weight of that responsibility very intensely. It put butterflies in her stomach, like she was some teenage girl, thinking of the next time she'd see Daryl and know they'd have to sort this out, one way or the other. Her thoughts were interrupted by Maggie walking out into the courtyard where Carol was doing the washing. Carol automatically smiled at the younger woman. "Hey."

"Hey," said Maggie, but she looked a little frazzled. Her gaze took in the washing. "This stuff just never seems to go away, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," agreed Carol readily. "Although, I have to say, I don't always mind. It's nice to have some of the stuff left over from the old way of life. Kind of gives you a connection to something familiar."

Maggie gave a begrudging nod of her head. "I guess so. Need a hand?"

"Not as much as you seem to need to have something to do," commented Carol mildly. She smiled up at the young woman. "Something on your mind?"

Maggie made an unhappy face. "Is it that obvious?"

"Just a little."

Maggie came and sat down heavily beside Carol on an upturned box. "It's Glenn. I'm real worried about him. He's becomin' obsessed with Merle."

"Merle is one to cause strong feelings in a person," said Carol wryly.

Maggie's face was strained with worry. "I caught him lining up Merle in his sights the other day. I think he'd have shot the guy if I hadn't come along." She shook her head. "That's not him, that's not something my Glenn would do. I'm scared, Carol, I'm scared that Glenn is changin' and I can't stop him."

"People don't change," said Carol steadily, "just sometimes their way of dealing with things does. Glenn is acting this way because he loves you and wants to keep you safe. He wants to keep all of us safe. That is who Glenn is, that hasn't changed."

"But he's going about it like a crazy person," Maggie fretted.

"People do crazy things when they're afraid of losing someone they love," said Carol quietly. "Panic can make you lash out and make bad choices."

"But he's so angry all the time," said Maggie shakily. "I don't know how to deal with that. That's not the Glenn I know."

Carol turned a little in her seat so she could look at Maggie properly. "In any relationship, a vital one, anyway, there is change. You come to a point with that change that you have to work out if that change is something the relationship can absorb and build around or ultimately let it destroy what was already there. At different points in a relationship, there is give and take. You have to work out if you're willing to take the risk of giving, not knowing what will be ultimately asked of you. It's a leap of faith which could end badly or strengthen what you already have. No relationship can remain static forever, the dynamics have to shift and it comes down to whether what you and Glenn have made is strong enough to weather this new element of your relationship. Right now, Glenn needs to be angry, it's up to you whether you can give him that and be there for him when he comes out the other side.

"And what if he doesn't come out the other side?" asked Maggie painfully. "What if he gets lost in all of this lust for revenge?"

"That's where the faith comes in," said Carol simply. "Ultimately Glenn is going to realise that he needs to make a choice about his anger and decide if that is more important than your relationship. You have to ask yourself, do you believe in him enough that you can let him find his way clear of his current actions? How much do you believe in him and in yourself and what you've built between you?"

"I love him," said Maggie raggedly. "There ain't nothin' I wouldn't do to make sure Glenn was happy and safe."

"You've got good instincts, Maggie," Carol said encouragingly. "You know Glenn, do what feels right. I think your relationship is strong enough to handle letting in emerging aspects of who you are. You're both very young, you've got a lot of change ahead of you. Right now you get to decide if that change is going to bring you closer together, or further apart." Carol gave a little laugh and shook her head as she took stock of her own words.

"What?" asked Maggie curiously.

Carol just gave a wry smile. "I was just thinking how rarely we take our own good advice." Everything she'd just said to Maggie could be applied to her and Daryl. A lasting relationship had to have enough give in it to expand to absorb different expectations and needs that each person might have over time. It was a challenge when one of these growth spurts happened but it was the only way a relationship could really keep itself alive. Carol knew what she had to do. She had to take a risk on seeing where this relationship could go, for both of their sakes. Daryl wanted more, she wanted more and it needed to be addressed. Carol squared her shoulders, a look of determination coming over her face.

"You look like you're ready to go to battle," commented Maggie, eyeing her warily.

"I've just decided to stop running from something," said Carol firmly. "It feels good." And scary, but Carol was starting to realise she'd lived with so much fear her entire life that she was actually far braver than she'd ever given herself credit for. Without realising it, Carol had learnt to push through her fear and keep moving forward with her life despite all the blows she'd suffered. She'd told Merle that she'd earned her opinions and attitudes and it was true and it was time to put them to the test. She didn't know how Daryl was going to react to all of this, most likely run away, but that thought didn't bother Carol now because she had confidence in their relationship that he'd come back. No matter what, they always seemed to find their way back to one another. She fixed her attention back onto Maggie. "You're a strong woman, Maggie and Glenn needs that strength right now. You two are going to be alright, just don't lose sight of who you are as a couple."

An uneven smile touched Maggie's lips. "Thank you, Carol. I think I needed to hear that."

Carol reached out and squeezed her hand. "I think we both did, funnily enough." She looked at the washing. "Let's get this done and start on lunch."

Maggie nodded. "Sure."

The two women made short work of hanging out the washing and then they were heading back towards the cellblock to start preparing lunch. They were at the outer room before the cellblock where they normally prepared their meals when Carol noticed something on the floor. She stopped walking and peered down at that mark on the floor. It was a bloody man's shoe print and as she quickly looked up the hall and back down it, she realised that there was a whole trail of them.

"Oh my God," gasped Maggie, seeing it too. The two women exchanged anxious looks before both of them broke into a run, following the bloody footprints down the hall. They led straight back into the room of cells they all slept in.

"What happened?" asked Carol loudly as they both burst into the room. "Who's hurt?" Her eyes glided around the room, anxiously doing a head count. Hershel was standing beside Carl with Glenn off to one side.

Maggie immediately moved into Glenn's arms. "Are you alright?" she asked fearfully.

"I'm fine," Glenn assured her, hugging her back. "The blood is Daryl's."

Carol felt some of her own blood drain from her face. "Daryl's?" she repeated unsteadily.

"He's okay, Carol," said Hershel quickly. "Just got himself cut up on some rocks. He's going to be fine."

Carol let out the breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding. "What happened?"

"Daryl and me got caught in the middle of a Walker herd," said Carl. He made a frustrated sound. "He got hurt savin' me."

"Something I'm sure he doesn't regret for a moment," said Carol without hesitation.

"Rick's went out lookin' for Daryl," offered up Hershel.

Carol frowned. "But you said Daryl was back in the prison."

"Rick went out lookin' for him and ten minutes later Daryl turned up," explained Hershel.

"I wanted to go and fetch Rick back," said Glenn.

"Well, that don't make no sense," Hershel admonished him gently. "We keep sendin' folks into those woods with all those Walkers, we're just askin' for trouble. Rick will be back soon enough. There ain't no point in makin' this a bigger hullabaloo than it is already."

"This is all my fault," said Carl, young face lined with anger.

"Walkers are a fact of life nowadays," Hershel disagreed with him. "That ain't nobody in this rooms fault. Your daddy can handle himself and he's going to be back to check if Daryl has come back real soon. I say we best stop all this frettin' over nothin'."

"Where's Daryl now?" asked Carol. She needed to see for herself that he was okay.

"In the shower block, cleanin' himself up," supplied Hershel. "I offered to help, but it was a bit like tryin' to help a wolf who got his paw stuck in a trap. Best to let them be to tend to their own wounds lessin' you're liable to lose a hand yourself."

Carol pressed her lips together in resolve. "Daryl can snap and snarl all he wants, but he's gettin' some help." With that she turned around and hurried off to find him. It was just another reminder of how tenuous life was in this post-apocalyptic world and how there was no point in waiting for a tomorrow that might never come.

And Carol was determined to heed that reminder, whether Daryl was ready for it or not...

**A/N****: Yes, we're getting a Caryl scene in a shower block... that should be fun with all the potential for some semi-nakedness. ;) **

**It's a big, pivotal scene for these two, so make sure you don't miss it. I'm going to try and have it written for tomorrow, muse willing.**

**Stay tuned. :D**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N****: Phew, okay, big, difficult chapter to write, guys. That's why it took me an extra day. A lot of highly emotional stuff is going on, so I needed to make sure I hit as many of my marks in that area as I could. **

**I'll just let you get to the reading and talk to you at the end, okay? :D**

**Chapter Twenty Five**

"Some people see scars, and it is wounding they remember.

To me they are proof of the fact that there is healing."

_Linda Hogan_

Rick pressed his back more fully into the hollowed out tree, trying to become invisible as a swarm of Walkers shuffled past him. He stretched out an arm above him, trying to make extra room to settle more of his body into the tree. The Walker herds really were moving around in vast numbers at the moment. The last thing Rick wanted to do was draw attention to himself because there were just too many to stand and fight with. His search for Daryl had been fruitless and Rick was on his way back to the prison to see if the other man had turned up yet. At least he had been until he crossed path with this latest herd. Rick stayed calm and just watched the undead file past him on a mission to not even they knew where. They just walked, it seemed to be a relentless drive, the last instinct of humanity, to keep moving forward. Rick could appreciate that. It was pure instinct which kept driving him forward these days. There had been so much loss and yet, there was still so much more to lose. The potential for pain and suffering was never-ending and stopping didn't seem like an option, because all that pain would be able to catch up with you and Rick didn't know if he'd be able to endure such an assault. So, he just kept moving forward, just like these tortured souls surrounding him, not knowing what he was moving towards, only knowing he couldn't stop.

Rick briefly closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer of gratitude that at least Carl was safe and sound at the prison. It seemed old habits die hard with the praying because Rick didn't know if he believed in God anymore and he certainly questioned the benevolence of the God he used to believe in. How could a loving God let so much pain and suffering fall on the likes of Carl? His son hadn't done anything to warrant this kind of hardship, and either had his daughter. The unfairness of the life his children now had to look forward to made Rick want to scream out at the top of his lungs sometimes but again, fear held him back. Fear that he'd start screaming and not be able to stop. Rick's eyes snapped open as he suddenly felt something clamp onto the hand stretched above him. He bit back a scream as his flesh was pierced, all the way to the bone with a vicious bite...

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl threw down his clean clothes and first aid kit down onto the nearby bench in the shower room and made an annoyed face. That idiot Rick had gone out looking for him. Why the hell hadn't the guy just waited a little bit longer instead of risking his own life to look for him? Daryl knew his way around in the woods, those Walkers weren't going to get him but Rick had to go and play hero for someone who didn't need saving in the first place. Daryl made a frustrated grunt as he wiggled his shoulders experimentally. There was a sharp pain just below his left shoulder blade but he just wanted to get enough blood off him so he could go and get Rick back. There was no way Carl was going to lose another parent, not on his watch. _Even if that parent had designs on Daryl's woman._ The unwelcome thought popped into Daryl's head and he didn't know if he was more shocked by the idea Rick might make a play for Carol in the near future, or that he was thinking of Carol in terms of being his now. Either way, kicking something seemed to be the way to go. Daryl lashed out and kicked at the nearby concrete wall, painful shockwaves radiating up his leg.

"What, you're not hurt enough?" came the exasperated question behind him. "You've got to add to your list of woes?"

He spun around to see Carol standing in the doorway of the showers, disapproval written all over her face. Daryl wasn't ready to see Carol right then. He was still so confused and the sight of her brought up so much emotion in him these days that Daryl knew it'd be a mistake to let her take another step inside the door. "I ain't hurt," he said gruffly, not wanting here there right now because it scared him how much he wanted her there right then.

"In that case I think you've got your period," said Carol sweetly as she glanced down at the bloody trail Daryl had left behind him as he'd walked.

He blushed but tried to scowl his way through it. "It ain't nothin'," he repeated tersely. "I just been runnin' and my blood was pumpin' a bit more is all."

"You got a medical degree since I saw you at breakfast this morning?" she challenged him. Carol started to walk towards him and Daryl instinctively took a few steps back. She shook her head at him. "You can't even see the state your back is in. How can you be so sure it's nothing serious?"

"I can take care of myself," he growled.

"Even people who can take care of themselves need some help sometimes," she countered as she walked up to him. "Come on, let me see." Carol raised her hands and made to move for the buttons of his sleeveless plaid shirt.

Daryl panicked and grabbed her wrists. "What are you doin'?" he demanded to know, blood roaring in his ears.

"You need to take your shirt off so I can see how bad the cuts are," said Carol calmly.

Daryl's hands unconsciously tightened on her wrists. "No," he rasped. It filled him with panic to think of Carol getting a close up look at the scars which littered his body. They were his secret shame, the marks which told of his past weakness. Daryl didn't want anyone to see who he used to be, not ever and particularly not Carol. He knew she'd pieced together the story of his childhood from what he'd told her, but Daryl didn't want to see how truly helpless he'd once been. He didn't want Carol to think any less of him.

"I know what you're tryin' to hide," said Carol, her face set in great seriousness.

Daryl's nerves tightened at that thought.

"You've got a superfluous third nipple, haven't you?" she continued on straight-faced.

"Wh-what?" asked a confused Daryl and then saw the beginnings of a cheeky little smile on Carol's lips. He couldn't help but give a grunt of laughter as her teasing broke the tension of the moment.

Carol was openly smiling up at him now. "It's just me," she promised softly, comforting eyes searching his now. "It's just me, Daryl."

She was asking him to trust her and Daryl did. He always had, instinctively knowing that Carol wanted to care for him the way he'd always wanted to care for her. Like recognised and understood like. Daryl didn't answer, just let some of the tension leave his body. He slowly let go of Carol's wrists and she was able to move to make short work of the buttons of his shirt and then slip the sodden, blood-stained garment from his shoulders. Daryl braced himself for the look of pity he knew was coming when Carol got a close up look at the state of his heavily scared chest. He didn't want her sympathy, but knew it was inevitable. His body was a mess of deep scars, how could anyone not look at that and just see a victim?

"Phew," said Carol, letting out a long breath, "that's a relief. No third nipple to be seen." She looked up at him, lips twitching. "Nice to know you're not a freak."

Daryl searched her face in amazement, stunned to see no soul-destroying pity in her expression at all. He'd built up people seeing his scars as this fate worse than death in his head, but with some simple teasing, Carol had taken that fear away from him. Daryl blinked a couple of times, trying to take in the enormity of the moment.

"Take your shoes off," she instructed him.

Daryl took a moment to make sense of what Carol had just said. "Why? My feet ain't hurt."

"They're soaked in blood and water. You're going to have to put your other pair on."

Daryl looked down at his sopping shoes. "I'll do it later."

"Daryl, take your shoes off," she ordered him in exasperation. "I've been dealing with one fussy baby all morning, I don't need another."

Daryl pouted at her. "I ain't no baby ta be told what ta do." Without warning, Carol's hand snaked up and ripped out, at the root, one of the sparse chest hairs he sported. Daryl started and made a noise of complaint. "Ow! What the hell, woman?!"

"You're going to start doing what I tell you, when I tell you, otherwise I'm gonna pluck you like a chicken, Daryl Dixon," said Carol sternly.

Daryl tried to stare her down, but he couldn't hold a straight face. "Florence Nightingale you ain't," he complained around grumbling laughter.

"Well, you not gonna win any prizes as patient of the year either," threw back Carol unrepentantly. She looked down at his still damp pants.

"I ain't takin' my pants off," said Daryl hastily, fresh panic welling up inside of him at just the thought of it.

"I've seen a man without pants before," said Carol calmly. "Even ones who don't favour underwear."

Daryl looked at her in shock. "How do you know I ain't wearin' underpants?" He couldn't help but think of Carol's penchant for sneaking up on people and seeing and hearing things she shouldn't. Had Carol already caught him with his pants down without Daryl even realising it? A new blush heated his face and he just hoped there was enough dirt there to hide it.

"I do the washing, remember," said Carol in amusement. "I've never seen a pair of your underwear grace my wash tub, so unless you've been wearing the one pair for nearly a year now, I'm pretty much assuming a commando situation goin' on down there." She purse her lips. "Or, a pair of not so tighty or whities that could fell a bear."

Carol's constant teasing of him was making it hard for Daryl to remember that he was meant to be frightened of her standing this close to him or the fact that she could see just about every scar on his body. Instead he was actually enjoying standing there, half-naked with a vague anticipation of her touch.

"Seein' as the pants are stayin', I'm guessing me finally gettin' you to take a bath isn't going to happen today," surmised Carol.

Daryl's heart skipped a beat at the thought of Carol watching him shower. Was it possible to be both terrified and excited at the same time by the same thought?

Carol stepped away from him and inclined her head at his feet. "Shoes," she reminded him as she went and collected a nearby bucket, turning on a shower and collecting the falling water in the plastic container.

Daryl watched her fill the bucket as he stepped on the heel of his first boot so he could step out of it and then repeated the process before kicking them out of the way.

"Turn around," she instructed him as she brought the half-full bucket back over to where he was standing.

Daryl obediently turned around but looked back over his shoulder to see Carol pouring some disinfectant into the bucket water, along with a cloth.

"Okay," she said, straightening up, "let's see what we've got here." Carol was standing behind him now as the smell of the disinfectant wafted up to his nostrils from the wet cloth she was holding in her hand. Carol started to dab at his back with the wet and warm cloth.

Daryl wasn't sure what to do with his hands as they hung awkwardly by his side. He drew them up and crossed his arms in front of his chest, tucking his hands under his armpits to get them out of the way. He was hypersensitive to every touch and tried not to flinch away at each stroke from the wash cloth. The antiseptic stung the little cuts on his back but that wasn't what Daryl was steeling himself against.

"It doesn't look that bad, most of these cuts aren't deep."

"Told you," said Daryl brusquely, concentrating on a spot on the wall in front of him.

"But you have got a couple of stones lodged in up under your shoulder blade here."

Daryl felt Carol's soft hand drift over his left shoulder blade and he tried not to shudder.

"I'm going to have to dig them out. Sorry, it's probably going to hurt a bit."

Daryl just grunted, the idea of a little pain the least of his concerns right now. His blood was again pounding in his ears, but this time it wasn't out of fear or anger. Daryl was doing his best not to enjoy Carol's touch this much, but it was impossible. It was like he was starved for the contact and her slightest touch had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and his stomach muscles clenching. His face gave an involuntary twitch at the sharp pain as Carol dug out a few stones from his back, but Daryl didn't comment.

"That last one was really deep," she informed him. "I'm going to put some peroxide on it."

Daryl just nodded, actually happy to have anything to prolong this moment, even if it was going to sting. Carol stepped away from him briefly and then returned with the bottle of peroxide. A few seconds later, Daryl felt the sharp bite of the foaming bubbles in his wound, but then it was quickly followed by the tickle of a soft, warm flow of air. Daryl looked over his shoulder to see Carol gently blowing on his back. It was kind of erotic and he wondered if that thought made him weird. Daryl really didn't know.

"It takes the sting out," Carol informed him between breaths as she saw him looking at her. She straightened up. "How does that feel?"

Daryl swallowed hard. "Fine," he rasped.

Carol nodded in satisfaction. "This should close up by itself pretty easily. You were lucky."

"That's me," deadpanned Daryl, "lucky."

Carol's expression had become serious. "I was really scared when I heard you'd been hurt," she said quietly.

"You don't gotta worry 'bout me."

Carol's blue gaze was holding his steadily. "Is that what you want, Daryl? Do you want me not to care if you live or die?" she quizzed him quietly. "Do you want me to be indifferent to whether or not you're in pain and suffering?"

"I-ah-I-," he cleared his throat and tried to collect his thoughts. "I don't want you to worry 'bout me," Daryl reiterated, hating the thought of making Carol worry over him.

She gave a lop-sided smile. "Well, tough, Mister Dixon, because I do." Carol walked around to stand in front of him and inclined her head at Daryl's arms which were still crossed in front of his chest. "Put your arms down."

"Why?" he asked hesitantly.

"I want to check if you're hurt anywhere else."

"I ain't."

"A second opinion never hurt anyone. I can already see your hand is bleeding."

Daryl pulled his right hand out from underneath his armpit to see he had indeed knocked off the skin of his knuckles and blood was already drying over the wound.

"See," said Carol knowingly, "a second opinion is a good thing. The last thing we need is for you to get an infection." She took his hand and quickly cleaned it off with the disinfectant-filled water.

Daryl watched Carol work, seeing the intent look on her face. Of course, he could have pointed out that he could have done this part himself, but oddly enough, Daryl had no real compunction to do so. That would mean Carol would let go of his hand and stop standing so close and Daryl really didn't want that. He did tense though, when Carol dipped the cloth into the bucket and she moved to start cleaning down his chest. Daryl grabbed her wrist again, finding it more challenging to be facing Carol when she was cleaning down his scars then when he had his back to her.

"I need to get this dirt off to check properly," she argued with his silent protest. "Besides, I have to even it up with your back, now that it's actually clean."

Daryl reluctantly let go of Carol's wrist and braced himself for her making a comment about his scars. Only she didn't, just worked methodically away on cleaning down his chest with that cloth of hers. He was having to remind himself to breath as Carol worked. Daryl drew in a ragged breath as Carol's cloth moved along the top of his pants, swiping at his waist line and he couldn't stop his body's reaction south of the border. Carol's touch was wiping his mind of all other functions other than feeling each one of her light touches.

When she was finally done, Carol dropped the cloth back into the bucket of water but didn't step away from him. "All done, I think you'll live."

Daryl nodded mutely, unable to take his eyes off Carol's face. She was openly staring at his chest now and Daryl tensed as Carol reached out a hand and dragged her fingers over the puckered line of the most prominent scar on his chest.

Daryl couldn't stop himself from flinching. "Don't," he ordered her harshly. Daryl went to knock her hand away but Carol avoided his hand and simply returned hers to his scar.

"You shouldn't be ashamed of these," she admonished him softly.

"Oh right," said Daryl scornfully, "I should be proud of 'em. Proud of the fact that I used to let my daddy beat me into unconsciousness every other day." His voice cracked over the last part and Daryl cursed himself for the weakness it showed. Those scars were an ugly reminder of the abuse he'd been too feeble to do anything about.

Carol frowned up at him. "These scars aren't about you being hit, Daryl."

"Then what are they about?" he asked angrily.

"They're about you being able to survive," said Carol. Her fingers touched lightly the multiple scars on his chest. "All of these, they've shown how you have the ability to heal yourself, that you're still alive." Carol's face tightened. "The dead don't heal. Their wounds stay open and bleeding forever, they don't have it in them to fix what was broken, but you do, Daryl. You did."

He was looking at Carol warily, not having ever thought of it like that.

"And what's more, you're not like Merle," she continued on, voice low and fierce. "That man hasn't allowed his wounds to scar up cause he keeps on pickin' at them. He's one festering wound of bleeding flesh that he intentionally pulls the scabs off so he can always be in pain and have an excuse to always lash out at anyone who comes near him."

Daryl's face registered shock, never having thought of his brother in those terms before but he couldn't argue with Carol's take on Merle. His brother never let anything heal over.

"In a lot of ways that's why I worry more about Rick then you through all of this," Carol mused quietly.

The mention of the other man's name had Daryl tensing. He didn't want Rick's name here, hanging between them in this moment on intimacy. He didn't want Carol to be thinking about any man but him. A shot of jealousy ran down his spine, like fingers down a blackboard, putting him on edge once again.

"All of Rick's scars are hidden away, inside of him." Her face clouded over. "There are days I think he's bleeding to death internally and none of us can even tell. It worries me."

Daryl knew what she was talking about, but knowing Carol was thinking and worrying over Rick stirred up the insecurities and jealousy he'd been struggling with for the last few days. It really was only going to be a matter of time before Carol found herself in love with the guy. Daryl's hands curled into a fist at the thought.

Carol's hand had drifted down to the area of puckered flesh where he'd taken the arrow in the side while looking for Sophia. "Your scars tell so many stories, Daryl. You got this one when you found Sophia's doll," noted Carol quietly. "It was the last kind of contact with the old Sophia that any of us had. That scar is a legacy of my little girl's memory, how she was when she was whole." She looked up at Daryl, face stricken. "And it's on your body."

The frustration of not knowing where he stood with Carol burst inside of Daryl. It all came out in a rush of anger and fear and jealousy, with Merle's words tumbling around in his head and egging him on. "Is that all I am to you, some kind of placeholder for Sophia's memory?" he asked harshly. "The thing you keep round to remind yourself of the daughter who got taken from you?"

Carol's eyes had gone wide in surprise at the angry questions. "Wh-what, no, Daryl, I don't-"

He couldn't let her finish. Daryl knew he was making a mess of this and wanted to be telling her the truth instead. He wanted to tell Carol that he couldn't stand the thought of her liking anyone better than him. That he was consumed with jealousy and confusion around her and missed her like hell when she wasn't by his side. Daryl wanted to find the words to tell her eloquently that she was more important to him then his next breath and that he was going to love her even if she never found a way to love him back. Because he had to, there was no longer a choice for Daryl. But of course, none of those words found their way to his lips. Instead he'd spewed out something biting and had hurt Carol in the process. Daryl was desperate to try and make this right, but didn't know how to. He panicked, fearing he'd just made his worst nightmare come true and pushed Carol away for the last time. Daryl needed to make this right but he didn't know how to tell her how he really felt.

Seeing as words failed him, Daryl tried actions. He grabbed Carol's face with one hand and planted a clumsy kiss on her lips, only he missed his mark a little, the fumbling kiss showing off just how inexperienced he was at the whole thing. Daryl tried to compensate by pressing his mouth harder against Carol's, hoping that would make this better. It didn't by the way Carol stiffened against him, hands pressing against his chest. Daryl was forced to break the kiss and Carol immediately took an unsteady step backwards. She pressed a hand to her mouth, while looking at him in shock and disbelief. Daryl just stared back at her in horror, unable to believe he'd just done that.

"Daryl." Carol said his name unevenly from behind her hand, still looking stunned.

Daryl couldn't wait around to hear her yell at him or worse, try and let him down gently. He pushed past her, grabbing for his clean shirt and practically ran from the room, just wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole for making such a fool of himself and making everything so much worse.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carl was fidgeting with his hat in his cell and waiting for news of his dad. He'd had a few bites of lunch, mainly to please Beth when she'd brought the plate of food up to him but he hadn't tasted anything. His stomach was in knots as he waited for his dad to return. By now Carl thought he should be used to this kind of waiting. It felt like his father was always going off, leaving him behind to worry about whether he was going to see him again. Carl was familiar with this limbo state, but he could never get used to it and maybe that was a good thing. He didn't want to get to a point where he didn't care if his dad was dead or alive. Carl couldn't imagine such a thing ever happening, but he did wish that it didn't feel like his heart was ripped out of his chest every time his dad ran off to save someone.

He stood up abruptly and shoved his hat down on his head. Carl couldn't take sitting there and doing nothing anymore. At the very least he was going to wait down by the fence for his dad. Axel was there now and he'd promised to let everyone know the second his dad was back, but Carl wanted to see for himself. He walked purposefully out of his cell and headed down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" asked Beth in concern.

"I'm gonna go look for my dad," said Carl, his jaw set in determination as he finished walking down the stairs.

"You know he wouldn't want you to do that," said Beth softly.

Carl's answer was sharp. "Well, he ain't here to tell me what to do, which is kinda the point." He made a contrite face. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I know it ain't your fault, Beth."

"Just give it a little longer," Beth pleaded with him. "I know Rick is going to be back soon and I don't want you putting yourself in more danger."

Carl's resolve waivered, finding it very hard to say no to Beth.

Hershel limped out from underneath the stairs. "Just take a breath, son," he advised him. "Like I said, we just have to be patient."

Carl opened his mouth to tell Hershel he was sick of being patient when Axel burst into the room.

"It's okay," Axel panted, a bit out of breath from where he'd obviously run back to the cell block, "Rick's back."

Carl's body sagged in relief at the news.

"But you gotta bust open that first aid kit of yours, Hershel," Axel advised the older man. "Rick has gone and gotten himself bit and needs some patchin' up."

The blood drained from Carl's face even as the blood roared in his ears. His dad was bitten. He was going to turn into one of those things. Carl tried to process that information, but couldn't. His brain froze in abject horror and fear even as his body decided to take flight. Carl knew he couldn't be here when his dad got back, couldn't see the inevitability of separation on his father's face. It was too much. Carl just started to run, pushing past Axel and making a wild dash for the door.

"Hey, wait!" Axel called out after him. "Carl!"

But Carl wasn't going to stop, he couldn't. He just kept running, running from the finality of the nightmare which had to come next...

**A/N****: So, hope you weren't all too disappointed with the shower scene. I'd pictured that one for awhile, so I'm happy to have it written and done now. With this chapter, I'm kind of paralleling Carl and Daryl's journey through their fears, at least, attempting to. Both are limited in their emotional maturity, so it makes sense to have them on a similar emotional trajectory. **

**Now, as for the first kiss between Caryl in my fic, again, I hope you're not disappointed, but this is my take on NR's interpretation of Daryl. Yes, I think he's right in saying on the show, if there is a first move to make, it's got to come from Carol. That's why in my fic, I wanted to tinker with the idea of a scenario that would have Daryl so desperate, he'd make the first move... and make a complete cock up of it, of course. LOL It's back to that wild animal backed into a corner, desperation driving its every move. That's going to continue to be ramped up now as the drama really heats up. **

**Lots of things happening in the next chapter, so I hope you'll join me and I'm also keen to think what you made of the Caryl shower scene. Did it work for you, did it not? Did you want more, less? For those still wanting more, don't forget this fic is far from over, so this is just a prelude of things to come. Stay tuned. ;) **


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N****: First of all, thank you to everyone who gave the last chapter so much love. I really appreciate you letting me know that you liked it. :D It was a big moment for Daryl, one of many to come actually. **

**This chapter is another one full of s/l beats. There is a lot going on emotionally and I want to take the time to address all the issues I've raised in various relationships. Hence, you got wordy chapters like this one. ;) **

**I'll let you read on and hopefully the next chapter is only a couple of days away. Thank you to all who are reading, faving, etc with this story. I'm just so happy you're all enjoying it. :D **

**Chapter Twenty Six**

"Carl!" Rick called out his son's name as he hurried down the winding corridors of the catacombs. He'd turned up at the cellblock to see Carl bolting out of the sleeping area as though the devil himself was chasing him. Rick had immediately given chase, intent on tracking him down as quickly as he could. This place wasn't safe to be in without your wits about you. He turned a corner and called out again. "Carl!"

"Don't come any closer!"

Rick came to an abrupt halt when he saw Carl at the bottom of a dead end corridor. The teenager had his back against the wall and his gun, with the large silencer on, pointing directly at him. Rick instinctively raised his hands. "Carl, it's alright, it's me."

"Stay where you are!" repeated Carl, his voice as unsteady as the muzzle of the gun as it bobbed up and down in the teenager's shaking hands.

Rick ignored him and took a step forward. "Carl, put down the gun, someone's liable to get hurt." He could see Carl's cheeks were stained with tears. "What's wrong, what's happened?"

"You-you've been bit," he rasped. "You're gonna turn into one of them." The agony in Carl's voice actually made Rick flinch.

Rick shook his head, quickly realising what the problem was. "No, I didn't, Carl, it's okay." He took another careful step closer and held out his hand. "I mean, I was, but it was just by a squirrel." Rick held out his bleeding digit for Carl to be able to see it. "The damn thing nearly bit my finger clean off. I guess he thought I was after his nuts." He gave a tentative smile, encouraging Carl to join in. "Apparently he didn't know 'bout my nut allergy."

Carl looked like he was in shock, blinking rapidly. "S-squirrel?"

Rick's head bobbed up and down eagerly. "Yeah, a squirrel, a mean one." He kept his voice low and calm. "Carl, put down the gun. I ain't gonna turn. I promise you, I'm alright."

The gun in Carl's hand was shaking so badly that Rick was a little worried it was going to go off accidentally and he braced himself to be fast on his feet if needs be. As it turned out, he needn't have worried, as all the strength seemed to leave Carl's body as he sagged to his knees, gun dropping out of his hand and hat falling from his downcast head. Rick immediately moved to grab him, ending up sitting on the ground as he pulled Carl into his lap and hugged him tightly. "It's okay," he whispered into the boy's sweaty head. "You're okay, I've got you." There was a brief moment of resistance from Carl, as though he thought he shouldn't accept the comfort his father was offering but then he was burying his head into Rick's neck and holding on tightly. His body shook against his and that made Rick hug his son even more tightly to his body, not caring that it was too hot to hold someone this close for any length of time.

"I thought you were gonna turn," said Carl raggedly into his neck. "I thought I was gonna-gonna have to-"

Rick pressed his lips into the top of Carl's head. "Don't," he pleaded with him painfully, "Carl, don't."

There was this long silence, where there was only the sound of both of their breathing, thickened with mutual emotion.

"Do you hate me?"

The shocking question so timidly asked had Rick's whole body tensing. He drew back. "What?" Rick grabbed Carl's chin and made him look at him. "Carl, _no_, how could you ask me that? I love you, I love you more than anythin' in this world." His heart constricted painfully with the notion Carl had been walking around thinking those kinds of thoughts about him. It was horrifying to Rick and waves of guilt washed over him that something he'd done as a father had led his son to think that.

"I killed Mom," said Carl, his voice wobbling and reminding Rick that while Carl might live in an adult world, there was still so much of the child in him. "Judith is never going to know Mom because of me," he said brokenly.

"What happened to your mother wasn't your fault, Carl," said Rick urgently. "Your mother and me, we chose to go forward with this pregnancy and we both knew the risks. What happened isn't down to anyone. In this world bad things happen, all the time and it's no one's fault. Do you hear me, Carl, it's no one's fault, especially not yours." Rick was desperate for his son to understand that. He'd been so consumed with guilt and loss when Lori had died, there hadn't been much left over to offer Carl. He'd let himself believe Carl was handling all this, because Rick had wanted it to be true. It would have meant there was one less load to bear but it was obvious the boy had been struggling, badly. Rick shook his head in frustration at himself. "Carl, I'm so sorry you've been walkin' around thinkin' I blamed you for anythin'." He made sure Carl was looking at him. "Truth is, I feel so guilty that you had to be the one who did that for your Mom. It shoulda been me, it weren't right how things turned out and I'd give anythin' to change what happened, but I can't." Rick's own words hit him hard. "I can't," he whispered, fresh pain enveloping him. "That's a real hard thing for a father to admit, Carl, because from the moment our children are born, all we want to do is protect them and make everythin' right in their world." Rick's face rumpled in pain. "But I can't, not for you or for Judith and knowin' that rips my heart out."

Carl was regarding him so seriously now, the tears all but dry on his freckled cheeks. When he got this look in his eyes Rick couldn't help but be put in mind of his mother. Lori would give him that same look and Rick would always be undone.

Carl's voice was low. "I don't need you to protect me, Dad," he said quietly. "I can look after myself."

"But you shouldn't have to," said Rick sadly, lamenting yet again the loss of Carl's childhood.

"That don't matter now. I just don't want you to ever leave me," said Carl shakily. "I don't want to be alone."

Rick cradled his son closer to his body and wished he could tell him something different to what he was going to. "Carl, I want so much to be able to promise you that nothin' will ever happen to me, that I'll always be there for you-"

"But you can't," said Carl dully, his slender frame limp against Rick.

"No," said Rick quietly, "I can't because it'd be a lie. Truth is, I couldn't have made you that promise before everythin' went to hell in a hand basket anyways." He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on the top of Carl's head as memories came back to him. "When you were a little boy, you'd look up at me and think I could do anythin' and it was the best feelin' in the world. I was your daddy and there wasn't anythin' I couldn't do but as you started to grow up, you realised I ain't perfect. That's always a hard moment for a father, to know they've let their child down."

"You ain't let me down, Dad," Carl protested quickly.

"Yes, I have," said Rick determinedly. "It's just the way it is because no one walkin' this earth is perfect, least of all me. I made mistakes with you, with your Mom-" His voice cracked over that last bit and Rick cleared his throat before he could continue. "Every child has to lose their innocence about their parents at some point and it's never easy but it's somethin' that has to happen for a child to grow up. I know I ask a lot of you, Carl and I know none of this has been easy for you."

"It ain't easy for anyone. I know that." Carl's voice became tiny and fearful. "I just don't want to lose you, Dad. I'm so scared all the time that every time I see you, it's gonna be for the last time and if that happens, I don't know what I'm gonna do. I don't wanna live if you die, Dad, I just don't. I know that might make God mad at me, but I can't help the way I feel."

Tears welled up and stung Rick's eyes as he listened to how scared Carl sounded as he finally gave voice to the fears which he'd held inside for so long. The stoic facade Carl had worn since his mother's passing had been just that, a facade. Inside was a terrified boy looking to be told it was all going to be okay. Rick held onto Carl tightly, voice thick with his own tears. "Listen to me," he said hoarsely, "you can live without me, Carl, because you're strong and smart and have a good heart. You don't need me." He drew in an unsteady breath. "I'm the one who needs you. You and Judith are the reason I get up every morning and put one foot in front of the other. You can live without me, Carl but I know I can't live without you." Rick cupped Carl's face. "That's why I will always fight with every bit of strength in my body to come back to you and Judith, _always_. I'd do anythin' to anyone if it meant keepin' you two safe and bein' there for you. I can't promise you I'll always be there when you need me, Carl, but I can promise you I will fight tooth and nail tryin'."

Carl looked a little overwhelmed by all that Rick was saying. Rick knew he should have said all of this a lot sooner but out on the road it had just been a frantic struggle to survive from day to day. When they'd found the prison, they'd barely settled in when Lori had been lost. Rick realised he'd been fighting so hard to give himself time with his children, but then wasn't doing what they needed of him with that hard won time. Especially Carl. Rick's expression was intent. "I believe in you, Carl, in who you are, the man you're turning into. You and Judith are the best and most perfect thing I've ever done in this world and ever will do. No matter what happens, promise me you'll always remember that."

Carl gave a tentative little smile. "I promise," he said huskily.

Rick let out a relieved breath. "Good, that makes me real happy, Carl."

"I'm glad and I'm real glad Merle was wrong," said Carl, the relief evident in his voice.

Rick couldn't help but tense. "Merle?"

Carl shrugged against him. "Yeah, he thought you might be mad at me for what I done."

"Did," Rick corrected him automatically, even though Carl's grammar wasn't what was concerning him right then. Of course Merle had to have a hand in this, gleefully stirring up already muddy waters. His jaw hardened. Merle had gone after his son, a boy still struggling to come to terms with his mother's death and Merle Dixon had targeted him in an attempt to get back at Rick. That son of a bitch really knew how to play all the angles. A muscle ticked in his cheek as Rick attempted to not show his anger to Carl. This wasn't his son's fault. Merle had been playing them all like they were two bit fiddles and it was going to stop. Rick didn't care if the other man came after him, but when he started messing with Carl, then all deals were off. He knew he'd promised Carol that this was going to be Daryl's choice, but time was up. Daryl had to make that choice now because Rick wasn't going to let Merle get another chance to hurt his boy.

"For what I did," repeated Carl dutifully.

"Carl," said Rick seriously, "when Merle tells you the sky is blue, I want you to look up and check for yourself. Nothin' that man says is worth listenin' to, you hear me? He's a liar and all he does is lies." Even as he said those words, Rick knew it wasn't strictly true. Merle was the most dangerous type of liar, the kind that puts just enough truth into his deceit to make it sound far too real.

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

"I know, I understand." Carl wrinkled his nose. "Can I see your finger?"

Rick held up his wounded finger for Carl to examine.

Carl seemed to satisfy himself that it was indeed a critter bite and nothing else. "I can't believe you got bitten by a squirrel." There was vague amusement in his tone.

"Not only that, he was a giant squirrel," said Rick straight-faced. "He was like the Hulk of squirrels. A Squirrel-Hulk."

Carl gave a little snort of laughter. "Nice pop culture reference, Dad."

Rick half-smiled. "Well, you know I like to keep down with the kids. It's how I roll."

Carl shook his head at Rick's silliness after such an emotional talk. For a moment, it was nice to pretend the rest of the world and its demands on them both didn't exist. It was just a father and son hanging out together and enjoying being together. It wouldn't last, but Rick knew this memory was something they'd both hang onto during the dark days ahead.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol walked into the sleeping area and looked around. "Has anyone seen Daryl?"

Hershel arched an eyebrow as he looked up from where he was eating a sandwich. "I thought he was with you."

"He was but then-" Carol hesitated, "he wasn't." She unconsciously put her fingers to her mouth that still felt bruised from Daryl's forceful but inexperienced kiss. It was far too complicated and private to go into details about what had just transpired between her and Daryl. Carol just knew she had to find him. Daryl was like a frightened kid, sure he'd done something wrong and running for what must feel like his life. Carol needed to find Daryl and tell him it was alright, that she understood. It was clear to her now that he'd been struggling with the growing awareness between them as much as she had. The only difference was that Carol had more experience to balance those feelings out. Daryl's fumbled kiss had caught her off-guard because she really hadn't expected him to make any kind of first move. The fact that he did just highlighted the desperate state he must be in and Carol felt guilty for letting it get to this point. Then of course Daryl had just run before she'd had a chance to collect her composure and talk to him properly. Daryl had attempted that kiss out of sheer desperation but Carol knew that wasn't what he really needed right then. He'd been looking for some kind of assurance from her that they weren't losing what they had and Daryl had chosen to kiss her because he'd felt like there were no more options open to him.

The trouble was, the kiss had been so unexpected and breathtakingly fierce, Carol hadn't been quick enough on her feet to give Daryl what he'd been looking for. Instead she'd given him stunned silence. No wonder he'd run. She'd known the kind of pressure Daryl had been under these last few weeks and it was obviously all just coming to a head now. While she couldn't make the decision about Merle for him, Carol did know that she could take away the worry of this shift in their relationship from Daryl. He just needed to know that it was going to be alright, that he didn't have to be frightened of something happening or not happening between them. For the first time in her life, Carol felt confident enough in a relationship with another human being that she knew instinctively they'd figure out a give and take between them that worked.

"Have you seen Rick?" asked Axel. "He was right behind me but now we don't know where he is."

"Rick's back?" asked Carol in relief.

"Yup, about ten minutes ago," Axel filled her in. "He was coming up here to get his hand looked after with the bite and all."

Carol's eyes widened in horror. "Rick was bitten?" She felt physcially sick at the thought.

Hershel made an impatient noise. "Would you stop saying it like that?" he instructed Axel in frustration. "You're scarin' folks."

"So, Rick wasn't bitten?" asked Carol uncertainly. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest at the thought of a man who'd come to be such a dear friend to her being lost to them. The group needed him so much.

"Oh, he was bitten," said Axel.

Carol expression was strained as she struggled to understand.

"By a squirrel," said Hershel quickly. "He's fine, Carol, no need to fret."

"A squirrel?" repeated Carol weakly, relief rushing through her body. "Is he alright?"

"I guess he just scampered back up the tree," said Axel blithely.

Carol gave him an exasperated look. "Rick," she clarified flatly, "not the squirrel. Is Rick alright?"

"Oh," said Axel, "yeah, he's fine." He cocked his head and looked thoughtful. "Lessin' of course the squirrel had rabies. I guess that wouldn't be so great."

"Was the squirrel rabid?" asked Carol, concerned again.

"Rick didn't mention it," said Axel casually, as he pulled on his moustache. "Seems to me that'd be somethin' you'd open with if you got bit by a critter with rabies. Least ways, I would."

Carol rolled her eyes. Daryl was right, sometimes Axel could be a real dumbass. Usually it didn't bother her, but when it came down to the possibility of being bitten by Walkers, his slow way of getting to the point wasn't that entertaining.

"If I had to guess, I'd say Rick was with Carl, seein' as someone gave him a right old scare." Hershel sent a very pointedly disapproving look Axel's way.

"The boy didn't let me finish my sentence," protested Axel. "I coulda told him his daddy didn't get bit by no Walker."

"But you didn't," said Hershel and shook his head at him. "Dumbass."

Axel scowled. "It ain't my fault if folks only hear what I say and not what I mean."

"Okay," said Carol determinedly, "Rick's alright and back in the prison, most likely with Carl and no one knows where Daryl is, have I got that right?"

Axel inclined his head. "Sounds right to me."

Carol headed up the stairs and saw Daryl's spare set of shoes sitting by his bed. So, he wasn't going to go too far without shoes on, that was something.

"Everythin' okay, Carol?" called up Hershel to her.

Carol leant over the guard rail and smiled back down at the older man. "Everything is fine," she said calmly. At least it will be as soon as she found Daryl and made him listen to her talk some sense. Of all the things Daryl had to worry about in his life now, Carol was determined that their relationship wasn't going to be one of them.

**oooOOOOooo**

Merle stopped in the doorway out into the courtyard and watched his brother, unobserved, for a moment. Daryl was stalking up and down the small space like a caged animal, bare feet and all. His younger brother's whole body was tense as he stomped back and forth, muttering under his breath to himself and hands closing and opening into fists with rapid regularity. Merle eyed the other man speculatively, trying to work out when he'd last seen Daryl this upset. Nothing was coming to him. Usually his little brother turned all of his emotions inwards, buried them down deep. Sure, Daryl would have a flare up and yell at times, but one thing about the guy, he got over it quickly. This behaviour was something new and Merle wracked his brain to work out what might have set Daryl off like this. A simple argument with someone wouldn't have this effect, Daryl was real het up and all that angry pacing didn't seem to be helping any. He strolled into the courtyard. "What's put a bug up your ass, little brother?" he asked casually.

Daryl abruptly stopped stalking and scowled at him. "Nuthin'," he said sullenly.

Merle arched an eyebrow to let Daryl know he didn't believe him. "Heard you and the kid had a close call out trackin'."

"Weren't nuthin'," said Daryl tersely.

"Deputy Do Right seemed to think it was worth chasin' after y'all," Merle commented mildly.

Daryl's lips tightened in annoyance. "He was makin' a mountain out a molehill. Weren't no need to come lookin' for me."

"Well, sure," agreed Merle readily, "but panickin' over nuthin' seems to be these folks go to settin' from what I can see. Anyone with half a brain knows you can look after yourself." He looked down at Daryl's bare feet. "Maybe not your shoes, but the rest of you seems fine to me."

Daryl looked away. "I gotta get my other pair," he muttered.

Merle was studying him carefully. "Okay." He hooked his one remaining thumb into his belt and tilted his head. "You gonna tell me what's got your panties all in a bunch, boy?"

"I told you," Daryl ground out, "nuthin'."

Merle took a step closer. "You know I'm on your side, right?" He caught Daryl's fidgety gaze. "Whatever it is, you got me in your corner, no questions asked. That's what brothers do for each other."

"I don't need you in my corner for this," said Daryl sharply.

"This bein' what exactly?"

Daryl sent him an annoyed look. "Is this you not askin' any questions?"

Merle half-smiled. "A man's gotta know who he's meant to be throwin' the first punch at. It only makes sense."

"Not everythin' gets solved by throwin' a punch," said Daryl impatiently.

"I disagree, little brother, violence solves a whole helluva lot. Only thing bein' is you gotta make sure you're the one throwin' the hardest punch. You don't wanna just be pissin' a fella off." Merle saw how Daryl was just staring at him now. "What?"

Daryl shook his head. "I'm just tryin' to work out how you ain't dead yet," he said in exasperation.

Merle's face split in a smirk. "Heaven don't want me and Hell's afraid I'll take over."

Daryl gave a grunt of laughter. "You're an asshole."

Merle grinned, unoffended. "That I am, boy, but I'm somethin' else too. I'm your asshole brother, for better or for worse, and I keep tellin' you, that counts for a whole lot. You got a problem, maybe I can help."

Daryl's expression was sceptical. "Somehow I don't think punchin' is gonna solve this problem."

"Have you tried punchin'?"

Daryl scowled. "No."

"Then how do you know it won't work?" argued Merle. "I'm also a fan of shootin, stabbin' and settin' things alight. You can't tell me one of those things ain't gonna make you feel better 'bout what's got you all worked up. You got a problem with someone and you set them on fire, boy, I'm tellin' you, that problem is sorted."

"Leave it be, Merle," said Daryl in frustration. "I don't need you fixin' my problems no more. We ain't kids."

"But we're still brothers," Merle countered. "You know I got your back. Why else would I be tryin' to fit in with these bunch of pussies if it weren't to back your play?"

Daryl gave him a disbelieving look. "This is you tryin' to get along with folks?"

"You see anyone on fire, boy?" shot back Merle. "I'd say all things considered-" he waved around his stump, "I've been Miss-fuckin'-Manners with these assholes." Merle jabbed Daryl in the chest with his metal stump. "And it's because of you, cause you told me you wanted to stay here and nest or whatever the hell it is you're doin'. So, I'm playin' nice with the other kiddies."

"What was your alternative to stayin' here?" asked Daryl sharply. "Keep on wanderin' around in the woods alone, scroungin' for your next meal and keepin' one step ahead of those geeks lookin' to rip you to pieces?"

"I looked after myself just fine," said Merle evenly. "We don't need these uptight assholes who all think they're better than us anyways. It's them that needs us, not the other way round, you remember that." Merle made a mildly frustrated sound. "And what are we gettin' for our trouble, huh? You look fit to burst and I know I ain't the reason you're out here sobbin' into your pillow-"

"Fuck you," growled Daryl.

Merle carried on undeterred. "So, if it weren't me, then it was one of your precious group's got you all riled up. Rick, the old man, the Chinese kid, Carol-" He caught the slight flinch Daryl gave at the mention of the Carol's name but didn't comment, just filed away the information for later use. "-that kid that hangs off you like a boil on your ass. They're all just lookin' to take from you, boy and I'm the only one who don't want nothin' from you. You're my brother and that's enough. I got no need of you to be anythin' but my brother in return." Daryl was looking at him with a serious expression now and Merle had to wonder if his constant harping on about blood ties was finally starting to penetrate that thick skull of his brothers. Merle half-smiled. "Face it, little brother, I'm the easy option and always was. These folks just had you all turned around, but you and me, we're the ones who make sense and have done all along."

Daryl looked like he was about to say something to that but before he had the chance, two loud gunshots rang out in loud succession. Both men tensed and looked at each other.

"Fuck," bit out Daryl and immediately took off running.

Merle had no doubt his brother was heading to grab his crossbow and chased after him, wanting more than just the hand gun he had on him. Shots fired inside the prison grounds was never a good thing and Merle intended to be as armed as he needed to be to face down whatever this latest threat was...


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N****: Just time to post this before I have to dart off to the hairdresser. Timing is everything. ;) **

**So, quick preamble this time... in fact, none other than there is a bit of Caryl in this chapter, with more to come in the next. **

**Hope you enjoy... **

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

Carol gripped her gun tightly in her hand as she and Axel ran in the direction of the south gate where they'd heard gunshots coming from. As they bolted to the end of the south prison block, up ahead Carol could see a herd of Walkers attacking the rest of their group. Rick, Carl, Oscar, Daryl, Merle, Glenn and Maggie were in the thick of things, fighting their way out of the starving creatures. Carol didn't hesitate, she ran directly up to the mêlée and joined in. Rick was fighting off two Walkers and a third was coming up behind him. Carol was too far away to get to him in time, so she used a precious bullet and dispatched the thing from where she was standing. Rick jerked at the sound of the gunshot so close to him and then looked over his shoulder to see the Walker slump to the ground. He sent Carol a quick, grateful look and then he was back to killing his own Walkers. Carol shoved the gun down the waistband of her pants and swapped the large knife she was holding to her other hand. Other Walkers had noticed their presence now and a handful had turned around to give hungry attention to her and Axel. They rushed towards them and Axel started swinging his axe as Carol ran up to the nearest Walker and drove her knife through the undead woman's eye socket. The group worked as a team, barely needing to communicate after all of this time of fighting for their lives together. Merle, for his part, seemed to be relishing the chance to kill as many Walkers as he could. Say what you would about the guy, he knew how to defend himself. It was a skill the group dearly needed as more Walkers poured in through the open gate.

Rick's voice carried over the top of the growls and grunts of the Walkers. "Daryl, the gate!"

Carol looked up to see Rick toss a chain with padlock over the top of the snarling Walkers. Daryl deftly caught it in his left hand, not letting go of his crossbow and ducked and weaved his way to the open gate. He struggled to close it as more Walkers looked to press their way inside to the fresh meat on the other side of the fence but then Oscar was beside him, throwing his considerable weight up against the gate. The two men managed to close the gate as Glenn was beside them, killing Walkers through the fence to protect Oscar and Daryl from being bitten as they leaned on the gate together. Daryl quickly looped the metal chain through the fence and snapped the padlock on, effectively keeping the rest of the Walkers from joining their friends. Now their numbers were contained, it was just a matter of the nine of them taking down the twenty odd Walkers left inside the gate.

One Walker Maggie had felled wasn't quite dead and grabbed at Carol's ankle, snapping at her warm flesh as she went to rush by. Carol didn't hesitate for a second, she spun round and stomped on his head. The feeling of bone caving in under her booted foot was something Carol had stopped being squeamish over a long time ago. The Walker gave a final twitch, but then it was still, at last finding some kind of peace as the noisy and sweaty battle raged on around its now defunct corpse. Everyone was fighting for their lives and they were all giving it their all as Carol turned her attention back to the main group and picked her next target. Suddenly a hand grabbed the back of her pants and pulled hard. Carol tensed, trying to regain her balance so she could spin around and shake herself lose but as she craned her neck to get a bead on her attacker, she saw it was Daryl. He swung her around, to the other side of him just in time for Carol to feel a sharp pain on her neck. She stumbled to regain her footing from the force of Daryl's grabbing her, a hand going to her neck at the same time and feeling the sting of her sweat in the open wound that was suddenly there.

"Watch what you're doin', dumbass!" Daryl raged at the hapless Axel, who was swinging his axe about wildly. "You nearly took her head off!"

Axel looked both shocked and contrite at the close call, taking in the way blood was seeping out from under Carol's hand. He made an apologetic face. "Sorry, Carol."

Daryl looked completely pissed off and opened his mouth, undoubtedly to blast the man again but his ire had made him distracted. A Walker lunged at Daryl from behind and Carol just reacted. She ran directly at the thing and rammed her knife up under its chin, piercing the brain and killing it once and for all. Daryl spun round and looked surprised at her quick action. "Watch your back," she admonished him. Carol couldn't stand the thought that Daryl might get hurt, or worse, because of her.

"You watch yours," he threw back at her in annoyance.

Their eyes met for a brief moment and Carol saw in Daryl's eyes that his shortness with her was coming from a place of fear. Axel's blade must have come a lot closer than she even realised because she saw it in Daryl's eyes how close he'd come to losing her permanently and how that had scared him. There were so many things she needed to tell him, but right now they were in the middle of a fight for their lives. Daryl stepped past her and helped Merle dispatch another Walker and Carol moved to back up Maggie who was dealing with three Walkers at once. Five blood-filled minutes later, the rest of the Walkers were all dead on the ground, lying in pools of their own dark blood and hacked flesh and bones. The group stood and surveyed the carnage, all of them sweating profusely and struggling to regain their breath.

"Is everyone okay?" Rick quizzed them. He walked up and put a hand on Carl's shoulder. "Carl?"

"I'm okay," Carl replied quickly.

Rick looked at the rest of them and they all nodded mutely, still trying to catch their breath. He looked relieved. "Thank God."

"God ain't got nuthin' to do with it," said Merle jovially, as he flicked blood off the knife he had taped onto the end of his stump. "I kicked ass and y'all did your best to keep up."

"Shut up, Merle," snapped Rick.

Carol absently put her hand to her neck and drew it away, seeing that she was still bleeding.

Daryl was by her side before she realised it. He took her chin in her hand and tilted her head back, so he could get a good look at her neck.

"Carol?" Rick's saying of her name was concerned.

"It's okay," replied Carol even as Daryl continued to scrutinise her wound carefully. "It doesn't feel deep."

"It ain't," said Daryl gruffly, glaring at her for the scare she'd given him. "You got lucky."

"No, you've got fast reflexes," she countered, under no illusions as to why her head was still attached to her shoulders.

Daryl's look was still annoyed even as he pulled the bottom of his shirt up and wiped away at the blood on her neck.

Axel made a distressed sound and started to walk towards her. "Carol, I'm real sorry. I didn't see you there otherwise-"

Daryl still had his shirt hem pressed against Carol's neck even as he jabbed an angry finger at Axel. "What the hell did I tell you 'bout goin' near her!" he bit out. "Back your dumb ass the fuck up!"

Axel abruptly stopped walking and took a couple of hasty steps back.

"Keep goin'," Daryl ordered the other man sternly.

Axel grimaced and back up some more, but Daryl's angry glare didn't lessen, even when Axel's back bumped up against the fence. "I can't go any further," he called out to Daryl and then flinched away from the fence as a hungry Walker made a grab for him through the chain links.

"Axel, step away from the fence," said Carol in exasperation. "You'll get yourself bitten."

"I ain't seein' that as a problem," muttered Daryl as he gave her cut a final wipe. He observed his handiwork with careful scrutiny. "It's stopped bleedin'. You'll be fine."

Carol half-smiled at him, silently apologising for the unintentional scare she'd given him. Daryl gave a curt nod of acceptance just as Merle's strident voice interrupted the moment.

"If you two are done playin' doctors and nurses, someone mind tellin' me what the hell happened here?" Merle looked around at them all. "How the hell did all these bitters get inside the fence?"

A blood-splattered Glenn glared at him. "That's a good question, Merle, why don't you tell us," he bit out.

Merle gave him an innocent look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I was supposed to be on duty at this gate just now," snapped Glenn, "and, oh hey, look at that, it's the gate which someone just seems to have left open."

"And that's my fault?" Merle challenged him.

"No one else here is looking for revenge," said Glenn darkly. "You opened that gate, thinking I was on duty and was going to be Walker chow."

"I don't know if Walkers would bother with you," said Merle straight-faced. "An hour later they're only gonna be hungry again."

Glenn's eyes narrowed menacingly at yet another racial taunt from Merle. The man seemed to have an endless supply.

Rick gave Merle a hard look. "Where were you this morning, Merle?"

"What happened to innocent to proven guilty?" asked Merle, looking suitably outraged. "I ain't done nuthin' wrong."

"Then tell us where you were," said Rick sharply.

Merle sent him a challenging look. "I was in the generator room, tinkerin' with that piece of crap and tryin' to get it to work. I was contributin' to the group. Ain't that what y'all about, earnin' your keep? Well, I was earnin' mine."

"I don't suppose anyone saw you earnin' that keep?" asked Rick flatly.

"If Merle said he was in the generator room, then that's where he was," said Daryl shortly. "And he was with me in the courtyard when we heard Oscar shootin'."

Carol cast a worried sideways look at Daryl, knowing this must be hard for him, but it was obvious the rest of the group wasn't buying what Merle was trying to sell.

"Who was the last person through the gate?" asked Carl intently, going over to check the lock.

"I was," volunteered Maggie. "Yesterday, when I went outside to check on the outer perimeter, but I closed that gate proper-like when I came back, I know I did."

"Of course you did," said Glenn quickly. "You're not looking to kill anyone." He glared at Merle.

Daryl's jaw hardened. "You best find some evidence to back up what you're sayin', Glenn," he said tersely. "Otherwise I recommend you holdin' your tongue."

"I held my tongue about your insane brother and look where that's got us-" Glenn swept an angry hand at the pile of Walker bodies littered all around them. "Waist high in Walkers."

"I ain't got nuthin' to do with this," said Merle calmly. "I ain't sayin' it again."

Carol could feel the tension growing in the group as suspicious looks were cast Merle's uncaring way. She, however, put her attention on someone who might be able to shed some light on what actually occurred at this gate. "Oscar, you were on duty here, do you know what might have happened?"

Oscar was standing off to one side of the group and blinked a little, as though Carol's words had startled him out of a private reverie. "I was walkin' the fence," he said, deep voice low and quiet. "I checked the gate when I took over from Axel and I swear, it was locked."

"It was," called out Axel from his exile.

"Shut up, dumbass," grunted Daryl, not even looking at him.

Oscar's face was serious. "Then I walked up the fence line to the last tower, doubled back and walked down to the laundry block. I been doin' that for the last hour."

Maggie pushed back a sweaty bang of hair. "And you didn't see anyone?"

Oscar rolled his shoulders and shook his head. "No, no one."

Glenn was staring directly at Merle. "Then how did the gate get unlocked?"

Merle opened his eyes wide. "Don't look at me, I ain't got a key."

"You're a criminal," threw back Glenn, "you don't need a key."

"Why would I leave the gate open?" Merle challenged him. "In case you ain't noticed, boy, I'm in here too. I'd be puttin' myself in harm's way, now why would I do that?"

Glenn's face was clouded with anger. "Because you'd rather die getting revenge than live and let anything go!"

"A man could be forgiven for feelin' like he was owed somethin'," shot back Merle. He waved his stump around. "All things considered. I got a lot taken away from me."

"You cut off your own hand, Merle," said Rick darkly. "No one standing here did that."

Glenn stepped closer to Merle, eyes flashing death. "And what have we taken away from you exactly, Merle?" he asked with angry derision, "the ability to clap? You're pissed off because the next time you're at the opera you can't give a standing ovation, is that it, you redneck son of a bitch?!"

"I've had just about enough of you, Chinaman," said Merle in annoyance. "I thought you people were meant to be a polite race. I reckon it's time someone taught you some mann-." He didn't get to finish his sentence as something clearly snapped in Glenn and the young man just leapt over the top of the Walker bodies and tackled Merle to the ground.

"Glenn, no!" said Maggie in horror as she watched Glenn and Merle roll around on the ground.

Rick immediately ran in and grabbed Glenn around the waist, attempting to drag him off the other man while Daryl went in to take hold of Merle, who looked like he was ready for a fight now. Rick and Daryl struggled to hang onto their ornery charges as they continued to attempt to get at each other.

"Come on, Mr. Ching Chong," Merle goaded him as Daryl tried to push him back. "Take your best shot, you pussy."

Rick was having trouble restraining Glenn as the other man fairly exploded in his arms, wanting nothing more than to take up Merle on his offer. In the end, Rick had to wrestle Glenn to the ground, using his skill as a Deputy to keep him in check. Rick was now kneeling on Glenn's back, trying to get him to calm down. "Stop it!" Rick ordered the squirming man. "You're gonna get hurt. Just calm down, Glenn."

Merle started to laugh at Glenn's predicament. "You just can't get that monkey offa your back, now can you, boy?"

Daryl shoved Merle hard in the chest. "Just shut up, Merle," he growled. "You ain't gotta make things worse all the time."

Merle glared at him as he straightened his shirt. "I ain't the one makin' all the fuss. I was just here, standin' with y'all to protect this group and suddenly I'm the bad guy again? What does a fella have to do to earn a little trust around here?"

"I'm okay," said Glenn sullenly as he now lay still under Rick. "You can let me up."

"You sure?"

"Yes," said Glenn tightly.

Rick slowly stood up, taking his knee from Glenn's back and allowing the other man to climb to his feet. Maggie was immediately by Glenn's side. "You okay?" she asked in concern, putting a hand on his arm. Glenn just shook it off, still giving Merle the evil eye.

"Looks like your boy is more interested in the fellas these days," said Merle blithely. "If you ask me, he enjoyed havin' Rick on topa him like that."

Carol shook her head in dismay as Merle's words had the desired affect and Glenn again rushed at him. This time though, Merle was ready and neatly side-stepped, grabbing at Glenn while he was unbalanced. Suddenly Merle had Glenn around the neck, his strapped on knife at the younger man's throat.

"No!" gasped Maggie in dismay as Glenn struggled to break free of the choke hold Merle had on him.

"Merle, let him go!" said Daryl fiercely.

"I'm just protectin' myself, little brother," said Merle, easily overpowering the twisting Glenn. "He attacked me."

"Don't hurt him," said Maggie emotionally.

"I ain't lookin' to hurt anyone, missy," shot back Merle, "but I ain't gonna play punchin' bag to y'all neither."

Glenn was trying to choke out angry words, but they couldn't get past Merle's pressure on his throat. This was quickly getting out of hand and Carol was beginning to worry that someone was really going to get hurt when the sound of Beth's screams filled the air. Everyone froze and then Rick was pointing an angry finger at Merle. "Let him go!" he ordered the other man heatedly before breaking into a run to find out what had caused Beth to scream so loudly.

Carol watched Merle loosen his hold on Glenn and Glenn tore himself loose, glaring ferociously at Merle for that latest act of indignity but by then everyone was already chasing after Rick, intent on finding out what was wrong now. Beth's screaming had stopped which frightened Carol as she ran along with the others. At least screams meant the girl was still alive. The men broke ahead to the front of the pack, clearly having the same thought, as she, Maggie and Carl ended up a few steps behind. In her head Carol was trying to work out if some Walker could have gotten past them and made their way back into the prison. It was the worst case scenario, Walkers roaming free in the prison, particularly with the most vulnerable members of the group, Beth, Hershel and Judith, there by themselves. Rick seemed pretty certain he knew where the screams had come from as he lead the group along the fence line to the front of the prison, to where their garden had been planted on one side, and the makeshift cemetery for their fallen comrades was on the other. Carol frantically scanned the area for danger as they all ran out into the field and then, they all saw it at once. The collective gasp of horror moved through the group and Carol felt the contents of her stomach heave up into the back of her throat, threatening to exit her body at the truly horrifying sight in front of her...

**A/N****: Yes, I know, another cliff hanger, sorry 'bout that. I'll try and get you an update tomorrow. **


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N****: First of all, apologies for how long this chapter took to produce. The muse deserted me, it was agony! Consequently I'm really not pleased with this chapter at all, which is pretty disappointing to me. :( I got about 2/3rds of this chapter done on Monday, and I've been trying to get the rest done since there. So yeah, found this one really frustrating. **

**But enough whinging from me, the chapters done now, however tardy it might be, so I'm just going to try and coax the muse to be more helpful with the next chappie. One of my reviewers expressed concern over Carol's neck wound from an axe covered in zombie blood. Good point. LOL I'm just going to say that Axel had failed to connect with a zombie yet and the blade was clean when he nicked Carol. Ah, artistic licence – long may it live. LOL **

**Okay, guess there isn't much else to say, let's get this complicated, emotionally draining chapter over and done with. **

**Thanks for reading as always everyone. :D **

**Chapter Twenty Eight **

Carol put her hand to her mouth and shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. Maggie hurried over to a traumatised-looking Beth and put her arms around her. Beth buried her face into her big sister's neck, not wanting to look

"Fuck," said Rick in distress as he ran forward.

Oscar was kneeling on the grave which had been made for Carol but had turned out to be premature. It was obvious Oscar was dead. His head was barely attached to his body anymore. It hung from strands of muscle and flesh, lolling to one side in a gory sight of almost complete decapitation. Oscar's unseeing eyes stared up at the sky while arterial blood painted the ground in front of him in a majestic sweep. In one limp hand he held a machete. The silence was deafening in the group until Merle gave a snort.

"Well, shit," he drawled, "I suppose y'all are gonna blame me for this too."

Rick knelt down by the body, taking in the scene at closer range. "He did this to himself," he said quietly.

Maggie gave a distressed sound. "But-but why?"

Rick carefully reached out and pulled back a little of Oscar's blood-stained singlet to expose a clear circle of teeth marks. "He was bit," said Rick, his tone dull.

Carol closed her eyes, shoulders sagging. Oscar had been bitten and hadn't even said anything. He'd just gone off to die by himself. It painted a heart-wrenching picture for the man who'd leant his strength to the group without complaint or question. Oscar didn't deserve to die like this.

Axel made a distressed sound, finally breaking out of his stunned silence. "No," he said shakily, "no, no, no, not like this, this ain't right." Axel's voice was getting louder as he stumbled towards his friend, dropping to his knees beside him. His eyes were wide and horror-filled as he took in Oscar's corpse and the brutal but effective way he'd chosen to end his life. "This ain't right," he said again, voice strained.

Merle gave an approving nod. "The man took care of business, ended things on his own terms. Ain't nuthin' wrong with that."

"Oscar cut his own throat," said Glenn in horror. "How can you say there is nothing wrong with that?"

Merle shrugged. "He didn't want to waste a bullet and look, he's bein' all polite and everythin' by walkin' himself to his own grave. We don't have to carry him or nuthin'." He gave another nod. "Now, that's a team player."

All the things Merle was saying just made things so much worse. Oscar had quietly gone about the business of dying and making as little fuss for the group to deal with, all while they were fighting and bickering. Everyone had been oblivious to his pain and the awful choice he was facing. There was something about the graphic choice of death and quiet acceptance of it all that just made his particularly disturbing to Carol, despite all the death she'd already seen.

The usually even-tempered Axel flared up. "Bein' in this group was meant to make us safe!" he yelled at them. "Not have us cuttin' our own heads off! What the hell is wrong with you people?! Why do you only care 'bout yourselves?"

Carol stepped forward and put a comforting hand on Axel's back. "Axel, no one here wanted such a horrible thing to happen. Oscar was a good man and you're right, he didn't deserve this."

"He was my friend," said Axel tremulously, looking at Oscar's mutilated corpse. "I know everyone dies, but not like this." He shook his head. "Not like this."

Rick put his hand on Axel's shoulder. "We'll bury him, do right by him. Oscar died protecting us all, we'll honour that."

"No," said Glenn, his face darkening, "Oscar died because of Merle."

Merle made a contemptuous sound. "Are we back to that again? You ain't got a lick of proof that I did squat, 'ceptin' your own paranoid delusions."

"Not being able to prove something doesn't make it not true," shot back Glenn fiercely. He raised a finger and jabbed it at the group. "I told you, I told you Merle was looking for revenge and now look what's happened, Oscar is dead!"

"I didn't have no beef with Oscar," said Merle calmly. "You ain't makin' no sense, boy."

Glenn glared at him but then transferred that look to Rick. "You got to do something about this, Rick. We can't all stand here and pretend that Merle isn't a threat to every one of us."

Daryl's voice was hard. "Merle's been livin' with us for weeks, ain't been no trouble 'till now. Oscar dyin' wasn't his fault."

Glenn turned to stare at him in disbelief. "Are you really this blind?" he demanded to know, voice growing louder. Glenn gave them a sweeping look. "Are you all this blind? Merle made sure that gate was left open, thinking I was going to be on look out. Only, I wasn't, it was Oscar and now he's dead."

Carol watched the group exchange looks with one another. They all knew what Glenn was saying was more than plausible. The tension in the air tightened. Her gaze fell on Daryl and she could see the way he was staring at a spot on the ground, jaw tightening and loosening over and over, lips twitching. The movements were subtle, but Carol recognised them as him doing battle with big emotions. Her instinct was to draw him into a big hug and not let go, but that was only going to complicate things in that moment. Carol glanced over at Merle, who was also looking at Daryl. The younger Dixon glanced up and the brother's eyes met. Merle arched an eyebrow at him and some kind of silent communication passed between them. Carol frowned, the look making her nervous but then Glenn was still going with his outburst.

"So, who's going to be next?" Glenn demanded to know. "We're all targets here because Merle is just going to keep off firing shots into the crowd until he hits the people he's after, me and Rick. You all know that. We can't keep pretending that this isn't how it is. Oscar died because we were all intent on playing happy families and not facing the truth. Merle is a murdering, bullying piece of shit and he's got no place here."

"That's my brother you're talkin' 'bout," said Daryl angrily.

"I know and I'm not hearing you deny anything of what I just said," said Glenn bitterly. "You're one of us, Daryl, but Merle, he just isn't and never will be! I say we end this farce now and-"

"And what?" asked Daryl, shoulders squaring aggressively, "throw him out to the wolves?"

"Merle's the wolf," snapped Glenn.

"So, is this what we do now?" Daryl cast a furious look around at everyone. "We just hand out death sentences to folks with no evidence?"

"It's alright, baby brother," said Merle magnanimously, "they're all just scared of little ol' Merle and folks lash out when they're afraid. I understand. I ain't holdin' it against anyone."

"Don't play at being the bigger man, Merle," snapped Rick. "You ain't been no saint since bein' here." He glanced over at Carl, lips thinning.

"I ain't done nuthin' but try and fit in with you lot and what do I get for my trouble?" Merle threw the question out to him. "Nuthin' but side-eyed looks and wild accusations."

Carol shook her head at Merle playing the victim card with so much conviction. She knew he'd been slithering around since day one, trying to stir up trouble with the group, but she also knew he loved his brother. Carol's hope had been that the latter would be enough to have him let go of the former, but that didn't seem to be the case. She bit her lip and looked with regret at the body of poor Oscar, still kneeling there, frozen in death with an air of supplication. But no mercy had come for Oscar and Carol couldn't help but feel incredibly guilty that with her stopping the group from ousting Merle earlier had led to this. She looked away quickly, feeling a stab of regret. Why did every decision in this world have to have such high stakes attached to it?

"You're all arguin' and none of you care a bit 'bout Oscar!" exclaimed an outraged Axel. "Y'all just care 'bout yourselves, standin' there arguin' over his corpse like he don't matter."

"Haven't you worked it out yet, dumbass?" Merle said casually. "If you ain't in their special little group, these so-called good folk don't give a shit 'bout you. They decide who's special and who ain't and it you ain't, well-" he jerked his head towards Oscar's almost decapitated corpse, "you have a tendency to be hung outta dry."

"You know that isn't true, Merle," said Carol tightly, even as she watched Rick and Daryl share a look now.

"Okay, let's ask ol' Oscar and get his feelin's on the subject," suggested Merle as he mockingly addressed Oscar's lifeless body. "Hey, Ossie, you feel a part of this group? You feel like you could die amongst friends or did you walk off like a wounded animal, preferin' to die alone then around a bunch of hypocrites?" He cocked his head and made out to be listening intently. "Speak up, big guy, I can't hear you."

"Stop it!" said Beth in distress. "That's sick!"

"Cry all the crocodile tears you want, missy," said Merle unsympathetically, "but y'all so hell bent in makin' me out to be the monster, but I reckon y'all are the monsters and Oscar's just your latest victim."

"Shut the hell up, Merle!" bit out Rick. "You don't get to judge us!"

"Oh, but you get to judge me," countered Merle sweetly, "that's how that goes, don't it, Officer Friendly?" He made a disgusted sound. "Well, I guess the tribe has spoken, huh? Big surprise seein' as us rednecks don't fit in with polite society an' all. Guess I'm gettin' my marchin' orders."

"Not before time," said Glenn angrily.

"Is the Chinese guy enjoyin' not bein' a minority group anymore?" Merle taunted him. "You like belongin' to some group bigger than you so you can throw your weight around? I reckon you wouldn't be so brave if I turned up on your doorstep one day with a group of my own and kicked your little, yellow ass."

"Enough," growled Daryl and then more loudly. "Enough!" Everyone looked at him as he shook his head at them all. "This ends now." Daryl's expression was hard as he caught Merle's gaze. "We're leavin'."

"Daryl, no!" gasped Maggie. "That isn't what any of us want." She looked at Glenn. "Glenn, tell him."

"Of course I don't want you to go Daryl," said Glenn sharply. "Merle doesn't need you. He wants to go, let him go."

"Y'all have got each other and Merle's right," said Daryl tightly, "we don't belong."

Rick stepped closer to him. "You know that isn't true, Daryl. You're one of us."

"For now," said Merle snidely. "Who knows if you'll be teacher's pet tomorrow, bro. It's all just a crap shoot with these people. When they got a use for you, it's all sunshine and rainbows, when that use is done with, well, you ain't their problem anymore."

Carol fought the urge to punch Merle in the mouth which was spewing such untruths. The whole situation was spiralling out of control as everyone's heightened emotions got the better of them. She faced off against Merle. "You done insertin' your own warped reality into ours?" she asked impatiently.

"I just call it like I see it, little lady," said Merle easily.

"Then you need a seein' eye dog," said Carol darkly.

Merle gave a bark of laughter. "You know, I reckon I'm gonna miss you the most, sassy mouth. You sure you don't want to come with us? The road can be a lonely place and it sure would be nice to have somethin' soft to cuddle up to of a night." He eyed Daryl speculatively. "Keep it all in the family, so to speak."

Before Carol could respond to Merle's ridiculous offer, Daryl was on the move. "I'll get our stuff," he said sharply and gave Merle a warning look. "I'll be right back."

Carol's heart leapt in her chest, unable to believe that things had gotten to this point. Daryl wouldn't really leave them, would he? A sick feeling started in the pit of her stomach. This was what she'd feared the most when Merle had turned up at the gate and now it all seemed to be unfolding in front of her and Carol felt helpless to stop it.

"Daryl, stop," said Rick impatiently. "You're being crazy."

"What did I tell you," Merle gloated. "You don't fall into line with these folks way of thinkin' and suddenly you're a mad man."

"Shut up, Merle!" said Maggie angrily.

"Make me, sugar tits," said Merle unrepentantly. "I ain't lookin' to kiss any of y'all's ass and that's the real problem here."

"Our problem with you is that you're a violent asshole," shot back Glenn. "One looking to kill us."

Merle snorted. "If I wanted you dead, you'd all be dead. Give me some credit."

And that was the trouble, Merle could have killed them if he wanted to, but Carol knew as the others did now, that he wanted them to suffer instead.

"Just wait here and don't say nuthin' else," Daryl ordered his brother in annoyance. "I'll get all of our stuff and we'll go." With that he turned around and marched off towards the cell block.

"Don't forget your shoes, boy," called out Merle after him. "I ain't piggy backin' you 'round those woods."

Carol looked at Rick. "You can't let Daryl leave," she said in disbelief.

"This ain't a prison," said Rick tersely and grimaced. "You know what I mean," he muttered.

"You know this is what Merle wants, right?" she asked the group impatiently.

"Wrong, it's what Daryl wants," said Merle casually. "I'm just along for the ride."

Carol's tone was sharp as she addressed Merle. "Are you really at the point of believing your own delusions now?"

Merle just half-smiled. "I wasn't the one deluded enough to think that this weird thing y'all have got goin' on was gonna have a stronger hold on my brother than blood."

Carol's lips thinned in annoyance, but she knew she was wasting her time talking to Merle. Daryl was the person she really needed to talk to. Without another word, she turned on her heel and marched off to find the younger Dixon brother. By the time Carol made it back to the cell block, it was to find Daryl sitting on the concrete steps in the general area, putting his shoes on, his and Merle's belongings already beside him. She walked right up to him and sent a frustrated look at the top of his head. "What are you doing?"

Daryl didn't look up. "Bakin' a chicken."

Carol ignored his sarcasm. "Tell me you're not serious about leaving."

Daryl flicked an unreadable look up at her and then went back to paying attention to tying his other shoe lace up.

Carol hated it when he closed down like this. It made her want to scream and shake him out of it. "Daryl's, this is a mistake."

"Won't be my first," he grunted.

Carol shook her head. "Don't do this," she begged him unsteadily. "Don't leave."

Daryl finished putting his shoes on and stood up, coming to stand in front of her. "He's my brother. I gotta."

Daryl's words hung between them and in that moment Carol saw the steely resolve in his eyes. Suddenly she realised that Daryl was saying that not only out of loyalty, but out of duty. He saw Merle as his responsibility to handle and this was the best way he knew how to do just that. Carol's heart dropped, because she knew she had no real argument to give on the matter. Letting Merle go off by himself would just mean they'd released a wild animal amongst them, free to stalk them openly. At least with Daryl with Merle, it meant they had a set of eyes on him that was looking out for them. But who would be looking out for Daryl? Carol drew in a pained breath. "I know why you're doing this, to protect us all from Merle."

"This is what y'all wanted, wasn't it?" asked Daryl tightly. "You wanted me to make a choice. Well, I'm makin' it."

"But I wanted you to choose us," said Carol hopelessly, knowing there was no real way for Daryl to do that and keep everyone safe.

Daryl was looking at her, his expression clouded. "We don't always get what we want." His eyes slid away from her and he moved to walk past her.

Carol quickly put her hands up and stopped Daryl from passing by. She kept her hands on his chest and could feel the way his heart was beating unevenly against her palm. Daryl flicked her a cornered look. His whole body was tense, as though he was getting ready to throw a punch. Carol knew how hard it was for Daryl to deal with overtly emotional situations and how unsettled they made him. But they both knew Daryl was walking into the unknown and Carol wasn't prepared to leave it like this between them. As if a world filled with Walkers and no safe place to hide wasn't bad enough, there was also the unknown quantity that was Merle Dixon. Carol was being forced to face the very real possibility that she might be on the brink of losing Daryl forever and her heart couldn't bear the thought. With no way of knowing if this was only going to make Daryl want to clear out even more, Carol cupped his face and made him face her. She pressed her lips against his and immediately felt Daryl's hands on her shoulder as he tried to push her away. Carol was stubborn though, as she gently brushed her lips back and forth against his, showing him how a proper kiss should be.

Daryl struggled for a few more seconds but then Carol felt him relax a little. She nibbled gently at Daryl's lower lip and then playfully ran her tongue along the same area, teasing into relaxing even more. Carol felt a tentative hand drop from her shoulder and perch itself awkwardly on the swell of her back. She broke the chaste kiss to gently rub her nose against Daryl's, smiling up at him and inviting him to just enjoy this. There was still the look of fearful uncertainty in Daryl's eyes, as though he couldn't believe this was happening and was scared of what it all meant. Carol wanted that look banished from his eyes. She returned her mouth to his, this time her tongue boldly pressing for entrance. Daryl tensed again but Carol coaxed her way into his mouth and then she was tasting him fully for the first time. Her tongue rubbed against his, inviting Daryl to savour her just as deeply as she was experiencing him. There was a muffled groan and suddenly the hand at her back was tightening, crushing her body to his. Carol wrapped her arms around Daryl's neck to keep their bodies close. Daryl may have been hesitant first with the kiss, but he was proving to be a fast learner. His tongue copied her movements as Carol relished being the one to set the pace between them. With Ed, she'd always been forced to follow his lead in everything, including sex. It was a heady rush of power to be the one to take charge for a change, particularly with what was turning out to be such a willing partner.

Daryl had both his arms around her, crushing her so hard to his body it was making Carol's head swim. This moment was taking her back to her teenage days, when kissing had been the ultimate form of intimacies and you'd linger over the experience for hours. It had been a heady thrill and a tantalising glimpse of so many forbidden delights still to come. Carol lost herself in kissing Daryl and she honestly didn't know how much time had passed as they stood there, entwined in each other's arm. Finally they broke the kiss, Carol's whole body throbbing as she looked up at Daryl with heavy-lidded eyes, both of them breathing heavily. Daryl's face was flushed and he looked as overcome as Carol felt. Fear struck at Carol again as she was brought back to the harsh reality of their situation. She moved and pressed her forehead against Daryl's and asked the impossible of him. "Don't leave," she begged him, voice filled with emotion, "stay." Carol stroked his cheek as she pleaded with him in little more than a hushed whisper. "Stay with me, Daryl. I can't lose you."

Daryl's hands clutched at the material of her blouse as her words impacted on him and Carol held her breath waiting for his reply…

**A/N****: I know, another cliff hanger, bad Aunty Lou. And yes, I know that the brain has to be destroyed to prevent zombie re-birth – we'll be addressing that in the next chapter, promise. :D Also, just as a side note of interest (or not), I have actually seen a person who'd killed themselves by cutting their own throat (at an autopsy) and they managed such a vicious and decisive cut that they almost completely decapitated themselves, vertebrae were severed. I always found that particularly shocking because of the degree of force you'd have to commit to in achieving a result like that. That's a particularly brutal way to chose to end your life. I just thought that'd be really confronting for folks to see, even with all of the death they'd already witnessed. **

**PS. Interested to know if folks think Daryl will stay or go? ;) **


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N****: And finally another update. Once again the muse wasn't that helpful and I'm not really loving this chapter either. I think it doesn't help that I haven't been feeling particularly well this last little while. That always takes a spring out of the old muse's step. :(**

**Anyways, on a less 'poor me' note, I have to say I loved reading everyone's thoughts on the Caryl kiss. Many of you brought up different aspects of what happened that were very valid. In so much as the idea that Daryl might have thought Carol was trying to manipulate him (even though we all know she wasn't), I did think long and hard about that. In the end though, I decided that such a thing probably wouldn't occur to Daryl because of his total lack of game. He'd never use sex as a tool for manipulation (mainly because it freaks him out LOL ) and I don't think it'd occur to him that Carol would do the same thing. Because their relationship has not been rooted in particularly sexual over tones – ie. Sex as the ultimate goal is not why they keep seeking each other out – I don't think Daryl would think that was what Carol was doing. He certainly didn't see his own attempts at a kiss as manipulation, more desperation really. ;) So yeah, but it was good to weigh up Daryl's thought processes about what happened and muse on how he'd interpret Carol's actions. That's what makes this couple so intriguing. **

**Perhaps another reason I'm finding the writing slow going at the moment is the fact I'm trying to advance their relationship romantically... without it being a typical romance. They will never be the hearts and flowers kind of couple, where they look into each other's eyes and whisper 'you complete me, babe'. Theirs is a romance which is romantic, but not all about sex. It's a rare commodity today in a world where sex is sold as an integral part of romance but as I keep saying, I honestly don't think Caryl need sex to enhance their romance. Trying to introduce it and do it with respect for the characters is quite tricky. I think the only reason I'm daring to go there is the fact that NR has talked about Caryl in those terms on some level. It kind of validates (for me, anyway) my fumbling attempts to do a take on a series of scenarios where something physical could happen between Caryl and not feel overtly staged or forced. Meaning, if Merle hadn't appeared and muddied the waters so much and pushed everything to a head, I could see Caryl being those flirty friends with a deep connection indefinitely. It's only that an outside force (ie Merle) has appeared and disrupted the equilibrium between Caryl. **

**And added to all that delicate balance business is Merle. **

**I could just as easily written a redemptive arc s/l for Merle (as the show seems to be doing) as I could have a villainous one. I find it interesting that the show and I are approaching Merle from opposite directions. They had Merle taking Daryl away first, and then Daryl bringing him back into the group. I'm doing the opposite and by the simple fact of flipping those two events, I think both myself and the show have justified (hopefully) the changes we're seeing in Merle. Merle is intriguing because he really could go either way. He's balancing on a fence, and he just needs a little shove to make him fall on the 'good' side or the 'bad' side. Merle will always be Merle, but the big question is, will he use his 'powers' for good or for evil? LOL That's the question I think the show is posing, in part, and the same with me. I can see a million ways to write Merle out of this mess I've put him into and have him become a valuable and accepted member of the group... but the question is, do I want to do that? The same way, there are a million ways I can seal his fate as the villain. He works as both, which is a credit to MR and TWD writers. **

**Okay, babbling, you can tell I'm still trying to work out things in my head when I do that. So, sorry for that, and I'll let you just get on with the next chapter. Thanks for all the enthusiasm for this story, guy, it really is helping push me to get these chapters up when my own is a little flat right now. :D **

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

"It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for;

I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."  
~Emilie Autumn~

_The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls_

Rick helped Axel gently lower Oscar to the ground and into a more restful position on the ground, even though the dead man wouldn't know it. Wiping the sweat from his face with the inside of his arm, it occurred to Rick that even when death was as obviously final as Oscar's, human nature still dictated the insistence they were still able to feel on some level. He guessed it was just hard to let go of life, even for another person. Merle stepped up to Oscar's corpse and bent down to pull the machete from his hand.

Axel eyed him warily. "What are you doin'?"

"Finishin' him," said Merle casually. He raised the machete, ready to bring it down on Oscar's skull.

Axel grabbed his arm. "No!"

Merle shook him off and sent him a vaguely annoyed look. "Gotta kill the brain, dumbass, otherwise we're gonna have a bitter who can't tell up from down."

Axel looked at Rick, eyes wide. "His head is near clean off," Axel said in distress. "That's enough, ain't it?"

Rick grimaced, reminding himself Axel and Oscar didn't have the practice with Walkers they all did. The two men had been locked away in this prison when it all began and even though they'd killed Walkers since Rick and his group had turned up, they just hadn't had the experiences the rest of them had. "I'm sorry, Axel," he said quietly, "but Merle is right, Oscar's brain has to be destroyed otherwise he'll come back." Rick gave a regretful look at Oscar's mutilated corpse. "And none of us want that for him."

"It's a mercy killin'," said Merle indifferently as he raised his arm again.

Axel grabbed at him again. "No, not you," he said emotionally. "You didn't know Oscar." Axel pulled the machete from Merle's hand. "It should be a friend."

Merle rolled his eyes. "Whatever, boy, just get on with it."

Axel gripped the machete in both hands and looked down at Oscar, a torn expression on his face.

"Axel," said Rick sympathetically, "you don't have to do this. I can take care of Oscar for you."

The other man was still staring at Oscar. "No," he said shakily, "I gotta do this. Oscar looked out for me in prison, I gotta look out for him now." Axel sent Oscar a regretful look. "I'm sorry, man, I'm real, real sorry." He raised the machete and brought it down on Oscar's head, embedding it deeply into his brain. There was the crack of bone and squelch of brain matter being destroyed as blood splattered up onto Axel's face. He made a choked sound of remorse and tried to pull the machete out but it was stuck. Axel gave a little sob as this brutal act of kindness refused to be over. He wrestled with the blade before giving a violent tug to dislodge the machete blade. Unfortunately, Axel had applied too much force and the end result was Oscar's head being finally torn from his body. Axel's arm was still on an upward sweep from trying to remove the machete from Oscar's skull, however Oscar's head was still caught in the blade. As Axel's upward sweep reached its apex, the other man's head finally dislodged and everyone watched in horror as Oscar's head sailed through the air to land a ways off in the distance. Axel made a horrified squawking noise at the accident.

Merle shook his head in disgust. "Ain't it polite to yell 'fore' before launchin' somethin' into the air?" he asked mockingly.

Rick sent Merle an angry look but quickly put his attention back onto Axel.

"I can't believe I did that," Axel whimpered.

"It was an accident," said Rick quickly.

"You seem to have a lot of them," observed Merle dryly.

"I'll go and get-ah... him," volunteered Glenn and quickly took off over to where Oscar's head had landed and rolled a few feet.

Rick stalked up to Merle. "Can I have a word?"

Merle arched an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feelin' that wasn't a question?"

Rick's expression was stony as he walked a little away from the others as they gathered around Axel and tried to comfort the distraught man. He turned back around to watch Merle saunter up to him.

"Don't I feel special," he drawled, "gettin' a private pow wow with the king of these here parts." Merle smirked. "I guess this is the part where you beg me to cut Daryl free, because y'all need him so much. You want me to be the bigger man and do the right thing, that's what this is about, right? Only why is it that you get to decide what the right thing is?" He sent Rick a challenging look. "What's right about separatin' two brothers? You can throw yourself on my mercy all you like, Officer Friendly, but my brother is a grown man and he chose me over you and there ain't nuthin' either one of us can do 'bout it." Merle's expression was triumphant at being able to say that last part.

Rick ignored Merle's gloating, fixing him with an unflinching look instead. "If I see you back around this prison, I'll kill you."

Merle looked momentarily surprised. "What's this, a threat?"

"It's a promise," ground out Rick. "I know you've been in Carl's ear, tryin' to turn his head and no one messes with my son, _ever_. Do you hear me?"

"What, you want the job of screwin' the boy up all to yourself?" asked Merle sardonically. "Well, ain't that sweet."

Rick took a step closer to Merle, voice low as he made sure the older man took his warning seriously. "If I see you again, Merle," he growled, "I'll kill you."

Merle studied his face for a long moment. "You know," he said at last, "I almost believe you there, Rick."

"You should," said Rick darkly.

"Alrighty then, cards on the table, I like it." Merle gave an approving nod. "Guess you finally managed to grow a pair and stop tryin' to play the hero all the time." He half-smiled. "I always knew that behind all that holier-than-thou bullshit beat the heart of a ruthless bastard. Nice to know I was right, again."

"Your opinion of me means nuthin', Merle," said Rick coldly. "Just know I'm gonna protect what's mine by any means necessary. I won't even think 'bout it."

Merle gave him a considered look. "In that case, we're a lot more alike than you'd like to think, Rick, cause I'm intendin' on doin' the exact same thing." His gaze flicked past Rick's shoulder.

Rick turned around to see Daryl marching towards them, his knapsack slung over one shoulder, crossbow over the other.

Daryl threw Merle a shot gun and glanced at Rick. "We're takin' a gun and some bullets," he said gruffly. Rick inclined his head in silent agreement. The two men looked at each other and then Daryl's eyes were sliding off to the side as he addressed his brother. "You comin'?"

"Nah," said Merle jauntily, "just breathin' heavy." Clearly the elder Dixon brother was in a good mood.

Daryl frowned at him and then realised the pun Merle had just made. His scowl deepened. "Asshole."

"Come on," Merle cajoled him, "that was funny, ask anyone?" He looked at the rest of the group who had varying degrees of worry and anger on their faces. Merle shrugged. "Okay, tough crowd, I guess that's understandable."

"Daryl, please," said Beth unhappily, "don't go."

Carl joined in. "Yeah, Daryl, come on, this don't make no sense."

Daryl wasn't looking at any of them. "We're leavin' and there ain't nuthin' more to say on the matter." He looked at his brother. "Let's go."

"Gladly," said Merle happily. He grinned at the rest of the unhappy looking group. "Now, y'all don't miss me too much, okay? I know it's gonna be hard gettin' by without my sunny disposition, but y'all try your best now, ya hear?"

"Merle," snapped Daryl, already walking, "come on."

Merle shrugged his shoulders. "Looks like my little brother is in a hurry to blow offa the stink of this place." He gave them all a little mocking salute. "Thanks for all the laughs." With that, Merle sauntered off to catch up with Daryl as they were all forced to watch them leave together. A strained silence filled the air as they watched Daryl and Merle walk out of the prison.

A muscle in Rick's jaw flickered as he addressed the despondent group after the departure of Daryl. "We need to bury Oscar," he said determinedly.

"I'll get some shovels," offered up Glenn as the rest of the group still seemed shell-shocked.

"Dad, Daryl's gonna come back, right?" asked Carl hesitantly. "He ain't gone for good, is he?"

Rick wished he had the answer to that question. "I don't know, Carl," he said honestly. "It's Daryl's choice." Rick looked over to where the two men were on the other side of the fence, heading into the woods. "And we all gotta respect that choice." He walked up to Axel who was standing by the now complete again body of Oscar and put a hand on his shoulder. "Once Oscar is buried, we'll have Hershel come out and hold a service for him. Do right by Oscar."

Axel nodded mutely, still with splatters of Oscar's blood on his face. Rick returned the nod and then looked at everyone else. "Let's put Oscar to rest." Everyone numbly followed his directions. Glenn ran off to get some shovels, while the rest moved to comfort Axel. Rick was glad to see everyone working as a team again. Already with Merle gone it felt like things were returning to normal. Only, they couldn't ever be normal with Daryl gone. Rick's lips thinned in frustration. "I'll be right back," he told them. "I'm gonna check on Carol." Nobody protested as Rick headed off to the cellblock. He found Carol sitting on the steps in the rec area, elbows resting on her knees, looking unseeingly at a spot on the concrete floor. Rick let out a long breath, knowing how hard Carol was going to take this. He walked up to her and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Carol didn't respond immediately, or even acknowledge his presence.

Rick didn't give up. "Carol, you had to know this was going to happen."

"Did I?" she asked dully. Carol looked up at him, and Rick could see the anger in her eyes for the first time. "And what just happened exactly? Do you even know what Daryl has done for us?" Her words were full of angry pain. "Daryl is only doing this because he's trying to protect us from Merle!"

"You think I don't know that?"

Carol looked taken aback at Rick's insight. "You knew that all along and you didn't say anything'?" she asked in outrage. "You can't let him do this."

Rick grimaced but held her gaze steadily. "What did you want me to say?" he asked a little impatiently. "Daryl had a choice to make and he made it."

"There had to be another choice to make," said Carol defiantly. "This didn't have to be how it turned out."

"And that was down to me?"

"You keep sayin' you're our leader," she snapped. "So, why don't you lead!"

Rick knew Carol was taking her own frustration out on him, but he couldn't let that stand. "What's my choice, Carol? What do I do? Daryl knows full well that Merle has most likely got a crew out there somewhere in the woods. There is no way he survived on his own for this long. We ain't no match for them if there is. We got Hershel, we got Judith, our ammunition is low. Daryl is our only chance at knowing what Merle is up to and tryin' to get a jump on this whole thing."

Carol's lips tightened. "So, you're sending Daryl out as some kind of spy to do our dirty work?"

"I didn't send him anywhere," said Rick shortly. "Daryl took this on himself." It was true. He and Daryl hadn't discussed anything outright, but the look they'd shared when they'd discovered Oscar's body told Rick all he needed to know. Daryl was doing what he'd be doing in the same position. It wasn't an easy choice, but bottom line, there was no real choice at all. He and Daryl both knew that.

Carol made a distressed sound. "Merle will kill Daryl if he thinks he betrayed him."

Rick's shoulders sagged. "I gotta believe that ain't gonna happen." His face clouded over, tone more conciliatory now. "Carol, I'm sorry. I know how much Daryl means to you, but this story was only ever gonna have one ending. You had to know that."

Carol turned away from him and walked a few paces further into the room, shaking her head. Rick knew the head shaking wasn't because she was disagreeing with him, but rather not wanting to accept the situation. She wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

"It's not fair," she said unevenly and then gave a choked laugh. "I don't know why I'd expect anythin' different from this world, but it just isn't fair. All Merle had to do was let go of his anger." Carol turned to face him, expression frustrated. "We all did it. Horrible things happen, all the time, to good people and bad, it doesn't discriminate. Merle is so afraid of belonging to anything bigger than himself, he needs to control everything."

"Including Daryl," said Rick quietly.

"But Daryl isn't the same person Merle knew," said Carol unhappily. "He's changed and grown into himself. I think somewhere in Merle's warped mind he's assuming that once he gets Daryl away from us, everything will go back to how it was and when that doesn't happen-" she looked away abruptly and shook her head.

Rick held the same fears for Daryl that Carol did and wished he had more in the way to offer her some comfort. "Daryl is doin' the right thing for the right reasons," said Rick unevenly, "and Merle ain't. I gotta believe that wrong ain't always gonna win in this world, not all the time."

Carol looked at him intently. "After all that you've lost, do you still believe that?"

Rick considered the question seriously. His whole understanding of who he was as a person had been severely put to the test over the last year. He'd done things he never imagined he'd be able to do, both good and bad. There had been many desperate and low days where the darkness of life now threatened to overwhelm him. But the way those words had just come to him made Rick realise that there was still hope inside of him. It was a hope which hadn't been completely beaten down by the relentless horrors of the harshness of life somehow. The realisation was a welcome one and Rick felt a little of the weight lift from his shoulders. He gave the barest of smiled. "I do," he said sincerely. "I really do. I have faith in Daryl. He's got somethin' worth fightin' for now and there is nuthin' harder to overcome than a man fightin' for somethin' other than himself."

Carol was regarding him steadily with those sharp blue eyes that Rick always felt saw more than she ever let on. She half-smiled. "And so speaks the voice of experience."

Rick gave a small grunt of laughter. "Yeah, I guess so." They smiled at each other, sad little smiles of understanding and shared loss. Rick stepped closer and drew Carol into a tight hug which she returned. They just held onto each other, both of them praying for the impossible.

A happy ending to this story.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl silently redistributed his weight as he crouched in the tree, looking down at the herd of Walkers stumbling past below him. His gaze flicked over to Merle who was also sitting up in a tree, watching the creatures stagger by. Both had a firm grip on their weapons in case one of the undead decided to look up for some reason. They'd encountered more Walkers in the woods then Daryl had expected. Progress had been slow since leaving the prison barely an hour ago. Daryl kept his crossbow trained on the heads of the passing by Walkers, even as he went back over in his head all that had just happened.

Particularly with Carol.

Daryl still had the taste of her in his mouth and the knowledge sent little fissures of excitement down his spine. He hadn't expected those kisses and what Daryl really hadn't expected was how instantly addicting they were. Daryl had been caught off-guard by Carol actually making the first move. He'd been beating himself up ever since he forced that embarrassing attempt at a kiss on Carol. She'd looked so shocked and Daryl couldn't blame her, he was even more shocked that he'd done it. He'd just been so desperate to try and communicate all of his feelings at once that he'd made a really bad call. What the hell did he know about romancing a woman? No wonder Carol looked like he'd just slapped her. Daryl had just panicked, wanting away from her and all the confusion she caused him these days.

Not for the first time, Daryl wished he was smarter when it came to the opposite sex. Hell, he couldn't be any dumber at this rate. Daryl had paced back and forth in that courtyard after making a fool of himself, oscillating between berating himself for being such a dumbass and having a panic attack over how to fix his own stupidity. He couldn't lose Carol's friendship over something like that. It was too important to his existence. Separation from death was always going to be an unwelcome spectre of this world, but separation from Carol because he was an emotional retard was something Daryl couldn't live with. Merle had found him in a complete mess, which only made things worse. The last thing Daryl had wanted to do was expose a soft underbelly to his brother. Merle might love him, but he wasn't above storing up some ammunition for later. Daryl had firsthand experience when it came to knowing that. It had actually been a relief when they'd heard those gunshots. Killing Walkers was easy, straight-line and didn't require any emotions. Daryl relished the chance to take out his frustrations on those unfeeling things. But then Carol had shown up and nearly had her damn head taken off by that idiot and Daryl was right back where he started.

_In mortal fear of losing her. _

Daryl's eyes half-closed as fresh memories of Carol's kisses came back to him. He licked his lips unconsciously, recalling the feel of her warm, sweet tongue on them and the way she'd tasted in his mouth. Kissing was something Daryl had never really given much thought to in his life. It wasn't something that didn't seem overly important to living life and that was most likely still true. What Daryl hadn't counted on was how kissing the right person, the person who held so many of your darkest secrets and hadn't abandoned you, how kissing that person would feel. In those few stolen moments there didn't feel like there was anything more important on this earth then trying his best to return in kind what Carol was bestowing on him. She'd felt soft and compliant in his arms, almost like a liquid and Daryl hadn't experienced that before. Sure, Carol had hugged him in the past, but this was different and he couldn't get enough. He'd held her to him, mesmerised by the way every curve of her body seemed to find a home against his hard angles and Daryl had been unable to let her go and it wasn't until Carol broke their heated embrace herself, that he was able to attempt to comprehend what was going on between them.

_Daryl drew in ragged breaths of air as he stared at Carol in almost drunken wonder. In fact Daryl did feel drunk, his head was spinning and all he could think about was stealing more of those moments. His heart pounding so hard in his chest that Daryl was sure Carol would be able to hear it. That same heart gave an excited skip as she moved closer again, Daryl thinking there were going to be more of the sweetness he'd just experienced. Instead, Carol pressed her forehead against his, her voice shaky. _

"_Don't leave, stay." _

_Her fearfully pleaded words cut through Daryl like a knife. It was all he wanted in this world. _

_Carol stroked his cheek as she pleaded with him in little more than a hushed whisper. "Stay with me, Daryl. I can't lose you."_

_Daryl's hands clutched at the material of her blouse as her words impacted on him. He wanted to do nothing more than to drop to his knees and swear he'd never leave her side, not now, not ever. It didn't even matter if Carol loved him back in the same way, the feelings inside of Daryl didn't need reciprocation because they were just how he felt. But Daryl couldn't tell Carol what she needed to hear, no matter how badly he might want to. After seeing what had happened today, he knew there was only one way to keep her safe, and that was to leave with Merle. Daryl couldn't bear saying no to Carol, so instead, he kissed her, this time with some newly acquired skill. His kisses were harder, more desperate then Carol's had been but she didn't shy away from them, instead, returning them whole-heartedly. _

_Daryl wanted Carol to feel in this simple act everything he was most likely never going to be smart enough to say. He groaned into their fierce embrace, knowing that this wasn't enough, but also knowing that there was nothing else for them in that moment. Daryl dragged his mouth from hers and with the last vestige of his willpower, found a way to let go of her and step back. They stared at each other wide-eyed and Daryl saw the moment when Carol knew he was still going to leave in her eyes. There was a flash of deep sadness followed by understanding. Carol didn't protest as Daryl numbly bent down to retrieve his backpack and crossbow. He straightened up, locking eyes with Carol once more as she bit down on her bottom lip. There was probably a million things Daryl wanted to say right then, but the reality was, none of them were going to change what he had to do. He swallowed hard and moved past Carol, their shoulders touching briefly and the contact was almost physically painful because Daryl knew there was a real chance that was the last time they might ever touch. He pushed down the soul destroying thought and made himself keep moving, knowing it was the only way to keep Carol safe. _

Daryl grimaced at the painful recollection of leaving Carol. They both knew why he was doing this, and that he'd never really had a choice, not since the moment Merle had walked through those prison gates. Whether Merle had left that gate open or not wasn't even the point anymore. Daryl had looked at Rick at that moment and they both knew it. The distrust and unease in the group was only going to continue to grow and feed off itself and in the end, it wouldn't even matter if it was misplaced or not. A man was dead because of Merle being in that group and Daryl knew that was on him. Merle was his brother, and that made him his responsibility. For all of his life, when Merle got like this, Daryl had always kind of slunk away from dealing with the less then noble parts of his brother's personality. He'd made a habit of just distancing himself from Merle's behaviour, while still having his back when the inevitable trouble ensued. Daryl knew he couldn't do that anymore. Before, it had only been himself at stake and that didn't seem like much of a big deal. Now, he knew that everyone of those lives at the prison were being threatened, and Daryl couldn't look the other way and pretend that didn't matter. They all needed to be protected and Daryl knew he was the only one who could do that. He loved Merle and would die for him, but he wouldn't let Merle take away the only family Daryl had ever known and risk the life of the only woman who felt like home to him.

"Hey, dumbass, you makin' a nest up there or what?"

Daryl snapped out of his reverie to see Merle standing at the foot of his tree, looking up impatiently at him. Looking around, Daryl realised the herd had passed on by and it was safe to keep moving. He quickly slipped out of the tree and landed on the ground beside Merle. Daryl reslung his crossbow over his shoulder and avoided meeting Merle's curious gaze.

"You're all flushed, boy," he noted. "You ain't sickin' for somethin' are ya?"

"No," said Daryl shortly, already starting to move. "Come on, we gotta find some shelter before dark. Looks like rain tonight."

Merle looked up at the skies which were starting to darken. "Nah, it's gonna build up for a couple more days yet."

Daryl glanced over his shoulder to see Merle was moving to catch up with him. He flicked a look to the darkening heavens and grimaced. A storm was brewing, and one way or the other, it was only a matter of time before all hell broke loose. Daryl cast a quick sideways look as Merle fell into step beside him, taking in his brother's unconcerned profile. His brother looked too relaxed for Daryl's liking, as though Merle had some kind of grand plan Daryl wasn't privy to. Daryl's jaw hardened at the thought and the possible implications for him.

The electricity in the air crackled as more than one type of storm started to brew in those woods...


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N****: Okay guys, massive chapter for you all, both length-wise and emotionally. Some big emotions pulled apart and looked at, so feeling a bit drained from it all... also, I'm taking painkillers currently and nearly falling asleep because of it. Consequently, I've proof read this, but suspect it's going to be a pretty substandard job in my addled state. So, apologies ahead of time for that. :)**

**Just wanted to reassure one of my readers who was concerned I wouldn't finish this fic because of muse issues... I won't abandon this story. I'm stubborn like that. LOL Basically, short of stroke, heart attack, brain aneurysm... or I guess, a zombie apocalypse, I have every intention of finishing this story, sooner rather than later preferably. **

**I suppose you're all nervously awaiting the last two episodes of this season. We all know Daryl and Rick are safe but everyone else, well, who knows. Carol has had so many near-misses on the show, here's hoping her luck isn't going to run out. You promised us nine lives for Carol, Kirkman, you better live up to your own words, damn it! **

**And with that vague threat/plea, I'll leave you with this chapter. Your comments are what are getting me through at the moment during the muse strike, so please know I appreciate each and every one of them. They're like gold to me as I struggle to reason with the muse and get this story finished! So, thanks again for your support, guys. **

**Now, on with the show...**

**Chapter Thirty **

Clouds of dust flew up into the air with each shovelful of dirt Axel, Rick and Glenn threw out of the deepening grave they were making for Oscar. Axel had wanted to dig the grave alone, but Rick had stepped in and said Oscar had died defending them all, and they all wanted to honour his sacrifice. Maggie and Beth had wrapped Oscar in a sheet, ready for burial.

"This is deep enough," said Rick. There was a sharp pang of regret as he realised how expert he was getting at knowing how to bury people properly. They all were. Too much practice in the last year and there was always the promise of more to come. It was a demoralising thought. He and Glenn threw their shovels out onto the ground and heaved themselves out of the open earth. Both turned around and offered their hand to an unusually quiet Axel. They pulled Axel out of Oscar's grave as Rick saw Carol, Hershel and Carl approaching. Carl was carrying Judith in his arms.

Carol had a bucket of water in one hand and something tucked under her arm, Rick couldn't quite make out what. "Thought you might need a drink after all that digging." She glanced up at the darkening sky, ominous grey clouds rolling in. "One that isn't raining down on you." Placing the bucket down, she drew out the metal cup which was in the bottom of the bucket of water and passed it to the person closest to her, which happened to be Axel.

Hershel was by the grave, he looked down into it. "Looks like you're 'bout done."

Rick took the cup Axel offered him and dipped it in the bucket of water. "Yeah." He looked over to Oscar. "We just need to lay Oscar to rest."

Carol stepped forward. "Not without these." She took the item out from under her arm and it was Oscar's reappropriated slippers, the pair he'd found when they'd been clearing cells. Carol gave a fond little smile of remembrance. "He loved these slippers."

Everyone joined in with her smile, picturing the large man wandering around the cellblock in his slippers after a hard day. It was this tiny bit of normalcy, a simple creature comfort that had been both the source of amusement and understanding from the group. Any small piece of the old way of living you could reclaim felt like a triumph and seeing Oscar relaxing in his slippers had felt like a victory for everyone. Carol walked over to where Oscar was lying, his blood already soaking through the grey sheets and gently unwrapped his feet. She slipped on the comfy footwear and then wrapped his feet up again. Carol straightened up and nodded. "Okay, now he's ready."

Rick and Axel moved forward and picked up Oscar's wrapped body as Glenn jumped down into the hole and helped lower him down. Glenn scrambled back up out of the grave as Maggie stepped forward. "We'll finish this."

The men stood back as Maggie, Beth and Carol all picked up the shovels and emptied the dirt back into the grave. Very quickly Oscar was buried and then there was nothing left to do but for Hershel to lead them in all saying goodbye. Rick went to stand by Carl. He took Judith out of his son's arms and nursed her in the crook of his arm as he placed his free hand around Carl's shoulder. Rick was acutely conscious of the fact that last time they'd done this, they'd been burying Lori and T-Dog. He squeezed Carl's shoulder and looked down at him, a look of understanding on his face. Carl solemnly looked back up at him and then Hershel was clearing his throat as he opened his bible.

"This is my commandment," recited Hershel, his voice full of quiet authority as he read from the scriptures, "that ye love one another, as I have loved you. Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." He looked up at them all. "Most of us didn't know Oscar for long, but he proved himself as a true friend to us by service to this group and ultimately that service cost him his life. We stand here to honour Oscar, his friendship to us and the sacrifice he made in defending us all-"

As Hershel spoke, Rick couldn't help but glance over at the grave next to Oscar's. It had barely been a month since they'd buried what little remained of Lori. Rick had been too traumatised to have any part in the digging out of the earth, but he remembered quite clearly Daryl and Glenn had made it a proper-sized grave, even though there were only scraps of Lori left, salvaged from the stomach of that Walker. He'd stood there over that normal-sized grave, watching them carefully place in Lori's remains. Even through his broken-down numbness, Rick could remember being grateful that the other men had gone to the trouble of making Lori's final resting place more than just a hole in the ground. Even though there hadn't been much physically left of Lori, that day Rick had buried so much. Lori had been the one who'd known him best in the world, she'd been his lover, best friend and mother of his children. He'd loved her for so long, Rick had no recollection of who'd he'd been before he fell in love with his wife. It didn't matter how rocky things were between them at the end, a huge part of his history and future was buried in the earth on that day. It felt fitting it was far more than just a little, practical hole in the ground. What he and Lori had shared hadn't been little and practical, it'd been so much more than that.

Judith blew a little raspberry in Rick's arms, pulling her father's attention from death to new life. Rick looked down at his daughter, knowing the incredible cost of bringing her into this world and felt tears prick his eyes. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself. It'd be so easy to second guess the decision he and Lori had made to continue with her pregnancy. The temptation to play the 'what if' game of Judith never having been created was always there but Rick had made a promise to himself when the fog had finally cleared after those first few harrowing days of Lori's death. He'd sworn not only to himself, but to Lori, that he was never going to spend a moment regretting the cost of Judith being here. It was the last and only gift he could give to Lori, to honour her memory. Judith was always going to know she'd been wanted more than anything by her parents. He was going to make it his mission in life to ensure she never doubted that for a second.

Rick hoped that wherever Lori was now, that knowledge would grant her some peace.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol didn't look up from where she was folding washing in her cell. "Can I help you with something, Hershel?" She did look over at the older man now, as he stood in the doorway to her cell.

"You were quiet at dinner," said Hershel evenly. "Just wanted to check in on you."

Carol smiled at his concern. "We were all quiet at dinner," she said softly. "We've lost a lot today."

"That we have." Hershel inclined his head. "May I?"

Carol nodded. "Of course."

Hershel deftly manoeuvred himself into the cell and took a seat on the bunk beside Carol, resting his crutches against the bed frame.

"How's the leg these days?"

Hershel rubbed at his knee. "Aches now and then, but I can't complain."

"No one would blame you if you did," pointed out Carol mildly.

"I'd take more time with my girls over still bein' able to do the two step any day," replied Hershel without hesitation.

Carol's eyes twinkled. "Quite the dancer back in the day, hmm?"

"Young lady, I could cut a rug with the best of 'em," he said proudly. "My first wife, Maggie's mother, we used to go dancin' every Saturday night. It's how we met. The first time I saw this vision appear in front of me, I knew I was gonna be marryin' her." Hershel chuckled. "I was so nervous the first time I asked her to dance." He shook his head, a smile of fond remembrance on his face. "My hands were so sweaty I kept havin' to wipe them on my pants' leg. It's a wonder I didn't drown the poor girl on first dance."

Carol laughed out loud at that. "I'm sure she thought you were very sweet." She could picture Hershel cutting a fine figure of a man back in his prime. He would have turned more than a few heads back then. Even now there was a quiet dignity about him that was very becoming.

"Well, I don't know if it was pity or what, but she let me drive her home that night." Hershel's lips quirked. "Even let me steal a kiss from her before her daddy turned on the porch light." He blew out a long breath. "Ah, that first kiss, is there anythin' sweeter?"

Carol looked at the blouse she was holding in her hands, intending to fold but lost in her memories instead. Had it only been earlier that day she'd been in Daryl's arms, kissing him for the first time? It didn't seem possible. It already felt as though he'd been gone forever. Their first kisses had been so sweet and innocent, it was intoxicating. Kissing Ed had always been a precursor for sex but with Daryl, what they shared had been a sufficient intimacy in of itself. Carol wasn't exactly sure that she was the first woman Daryl had kissed, but she had a quiet certainty that she was the first it matter with. Having that knowledge just made their forced parting so much more bittersweet. "Not that I can think of," she replied huskily to Hershel's musings.

The older man fixed her with his faded but still intent blue gaze. "He'll come back, you know."

Carol gave a sad little smile. "I want to believe that but it's really hard to see how."

"Now's not the time to lose faith."

"I know, I just wish-" She glanced over to where Hershel was looking at her with interest to finish her sentence. "I just wish I was blessed with better timing," she finished ruefully. Carol couldn't help but wonder if she and Daryl had shared those kisses before just now, if things would have turned out differently today. She'd never know.

"Daryl's found people he belongs to and with," said Hershel simply. "A man will fight to the death to make his way back to that."

Carol wrinkled her nose. "That's what I'm afraid of." Her brow creased in concern. "Daryl loves his brother. I don't want them to come to blows because I know he doesn't want that. If it came right down to it, I think Merle could kill Daryl, but I don't believe Daryl has it in him to kill Merle." Carol's expression was pained. "And I don't want Daryl to have it in him." She shook her head. "I keep turnin' this over and over in my head and I can't work out how Daryl comin' back isn't going to come at some huge cost."

Hershel's response was a quiet one. "Precious things come at huge costs, if they didn't, then they wouldn't be precious."

Carol grimaced, unable to argue with that logic. She had to ask the question which was plaguing her ever since Rick brought it up. "Do you think Merle has some kind of crew out there in those woods?"

Hershel pursed his lips and stared at the grey wall in front of them for a long moment. "I wouldn't be surprised," he said at last. "Even Merle couldn't have survived as long as he did by himself, not in the state he woulda been."

Carol closed her eyes, trying to hold back her fears. So many things could go wrong. She felt Hershel's warm hand on her knee.

"That boy of yours is smart. He'll figure this out."

"Daryl's not mine," Carol corrected him automatically.

"Darlin'," drawled Hershel, "if there is such a thing as a person belongin' to another in this world, then Daryl belongs to you."

Carol opened her eyes and looked at him in surprise.

"You were the first one who risked gettin' your hand bit off to bring that boy in outta the cold," Hershel explained. "You're the one Daryl identifies the most within the group, the one who fought for him first. He's yours, Carol and I'm guessin' always will be, one way or the other."

Carol bit her bottom lip, tears welling a little in her eyes to hear that. She supposed she'd always known that, but to hear someone else say the words just brought everything home to Carol. "I'm scared for him, Hershel."

The older man put his arm around Carol's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know," he said quietly, "but this ain't over yet. A lot of things can happen and they don't have to be all bad."

Carol gave a little grimace, knowing Hershel was right but still fearing the worst. She leant into him for a moment and let herself be comforted regardless, and could only hope Daryl was finding some kind of solace that night as well.

It seemed unlikely.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl sent an impatient look over at Merle and then one back around the darkened forest. "What are you lookin' for? We gotta make camp."

Merle was on his knees, arm stuck deep into a hollowed out log as he fished around for something inside. "Patience is a virtue, little brother," he grunted, straining to reach in deeper. "Good things come to those who wait."

"Lessin' you're gonna be pullin' a fire outta that hollow, I don't care."

Merle's face lit up as he obviously found what he was searching for. "Aha!" He pulled out his arm and in his hand was a bottle of whiskey. Merle held it aloft triumphantly. "The mother lode," he declared proudly.

"You got hooch squirreled away?" asked Daryl in disbelief.

Merle grinned. "A man cannot live by bread alone says the Good Book and I ain't one to argue the point with the Lord God Almighty."

Daryl shook his head but couldn't help but smile a little. "You lost a hand and found religion?"

Merle grinned. "You find all sorts of things when you start lookin', bro." He stood up and nodded his head in approval. "This should wash down those squirrels you got hanging 'round your neck real fine."

Daryl looked down at the three squirrels he had hanging off a string over his shoulder. "I'm cookin' mine, so we need a fire."

"Well la de dah," said Merle mockingly, "look who's got all fancy these days."

"And it's getting cold at night," continued on Daryl, ignoring him. "We need a fire."

"Fancy and soft," scoffed Merle.

"Blow me."

Merle smirked. "I told you, boy, we ain't those kinds of rednecks." He gave Daryl the once over. "Guess you really are missin' your creature comforts. Food, warmth and pussy." Merle shrugged. "I can help you with the first two, but you're on your own with the last one."

Daryl didn't comment, not wanting to go there about that with Merle. Instead he just turned around and started to walk off to find a good place to make camp for the night. The worst of the Walkers seemed to have passed through, but the danger of stragglers was always there. He walked for a little bit and found an area where the ground dropped off suddenly. That meant there was a bit of a place to have your back up against something solid and still have a good view of anything coming up in front of you. Daryl threw down his back pack in the little nook. "This looks good. I'll go get some firewood."

"Leave the squirrels," Merle instructed him. "I'll skin 'em for cookin'."

Fifteen minutes later there was a small fire blazing away and three squirrel carcasses starting to roast up nicely. Merle and Daryl sat opposite one another as they waited for their food to cook.

Merle undid the lid on the bottle of bourbon. "Time for a little aperitif before dinner." He downed a large glug of the whiskey as Daryl watched. Merle swallowed and then offered the bottle to him.

Daryl gave a short shake of his head. "Nah."

Merle snorted. "Looks like someone else found that religion you were talkin' bout before," he said sardonically. "Is that what your new friends taught you, drinkin' is a sin?"

"I ain't drinkin' cause I think one of us should stay sober so we both don't end up as Walker chow," threw back Daryl. He gave Merle an intent look. "Where did you get that from anyways?" There was still a lot Daryl didn't know about what Merle had been up to during their enforced separation. It was something he was hoping to find out more about, now that they were alone. Everything had happened so quickly once they'd found Oscar's body, but Daryl knew he had to finally face the fact Merle was a threat to the group. How far that threat ran was the reason Daryl had left with Merle in the first place. If it was just his brother, than that was one thing, Daryl could handle that. However, if Merle really did belong to another group as Rick feared, then that was something else again. I couple of other people, that would be no problem. A group larger and more armed then their people though, that was a whole other ball game. A small group Daryl knew he could integrate with and make sure they left the prison folk alone. A large one and all bets were off. Daryl didn't want to really think about what would happen if there was a big gang waiting on Merle's return. The truth was though, Daryl already knew what he had to do if that was the case. He had to make sure Merle never had a reason to go back to those people. Daryl would have to talk Merle into setting off, just the two of them and turning their backs on both groups. He blinked at the sharp pain the thought caused him.

"Found it." Merle's response was typically non-specific.

"Where?"

"In a bar?"

"Which bar?"

Merle arched an eyebrow. "You writin' a book I should know 'bout, boy?"

"We were separated for nearly a year," pointed out Daryl. "I don't got a right to ask some questions?"

Merle gave him a considered look. "Okay, but I get to ask questions of my own."

Daryl shrugged.

"You fuckin' Carol?"

Daryl stiffened, not having seen that one coming. "Wh-what?"

"I mean, I get Maggie is with what-his-name and that old man is always hoverin' round that firm assed little blonde daughter of his, all protective and shit-"

"Beth is seventeen," said Daryl tersely.

It was Merle's turn to shrug. "Get 'em young, train 'em right."

Daryl's jaw hardened and he looked away. "I ain't no paedophile," he muttered. "I ain't interested in little girls."

"Then that just leaves Carol," finished off Merle, as though he hadn't spoken. He cocked his head and looked at Daryl. "So? You doin' sassy mouth or what?"

Daryl tried not to show any emotion on his face. "No."

Merle gave a little grunt, still considering him closely. "That right?"

"Yes." Daryl wasn't comfortable with this conversation for a lot of reasons and he looked to distract his brother from this line of questioning. "Squirrels are done." He reached out and pulled one piece of skewered meat from the fire and handed it to Merle. "Here." Merle accepted the food, still watching him carefully and Daryl was afraid the other man wasn't going to stop in his line of questioning. Merle surprised him though as he tucked into his dinner, not making any further comment. Daryl was grateful, but wary this wasn't the last he'd heard on the subject. There was nothing to be done about that however, so instead, Daryl started to pull apart his squirrel meal and both brothers ate in silence for the time being. When they were both done, Daryl was licking his fingers as Merle reached for his bottle again.

Merle took a deep drink from the bottle and it appeared to put him in a contemplative mood. "You reckon they're missin' us yet?"

Daryl just stared at him.

"I ain't the villain of this piece," observed Merle when it became clear Daryl wasn't going to comment. "They brought this all on themselves, with their distrust. You know they're all crazy, right?"

Daryl frowned and picked up a twig from the ground and started to fiddle with it. All of them in the group had been pushed past breaking point at times but they'd all managed to come back from it, one way or the other. At least, Daryl had always thought so. It was odd getting what was basically an outsider's view on the group and Daryl struggled not to vocalise his protectiveness of the group, knowing it'd only add fuel to Merle's rhetoric.

"Nuthin' more dangerous than crazy folk who don't know they're crazy," concluded Merle as he took another serve from the bottle. "See, me, I got what you call no illusions. I always knew who and what I was." Merle paused and looked down the opening of the bottle. "Most other folks ain't similarly blessed." He pointed the bottle neck at Daryl. "Take your Officer Friendly for example. His whole life he thought he was the good guy. The guy who always knew the right thing to do and would do it, no questions asked." Merle gave a chortle of vaguely contemptuous laughter. "I bet if you asked him back before this little shin ding kicked off, Rick would have said he was nuthin' like someone like me. Nope, Deputy Grimes woulda said he disagreed with how I lived my life on a fundamental level, if anyone had ever asked." He half-smiled. "But when push comes to shove, folks discover that they have a lot more of old Merle in 'em then they were ever willin' to admit. It makes 'em a might uncomfortable, so you know what these formerly fine upstandin' folk do to make themselves feel better 'bout this new revelation?" Merle didn't give Daryl a chance to answer as he tapped his forehead with a finger. "They gotta make us more evil in their heads to make themselves seem less tainted." He gave a dismissive grunt as he lifted the bottle to his lips once more and had one more gem of wisdom before downing another swig. "Calamity introduces a man to himself, boy, you remember that."

"Is that your long-ass way of tellin' me you didn't have nuthin' to do with what happened to Oscar today?" Daryl threw the twig he'd been fiddling with into their modest fire. The green sapling flared briefly before being consumed completely. "Cause I ain't askin'."

Merle swallowed his mouthful of bourbon and regarded him curiously. "Is that because you know I was innocent of any wrong doin' or afraid I'm not?"

Daryl's gaze flicked over to meet his. "It don't matter now."

"It matters to me if my brother thinks I'm a liar," said Merle shortly.

A humourless laugh escaped Daryl's lips. "I _know_ you're a liar."

Merle shrugged. "Okay, yeah, but do you think I'm lyin' to you now?"

Daryl stared at Merle through the flickering flames of the fire. Shadows danced over the older man's face as he stared right back. The show of light and dark on Merle's face made him seem as nebulous as his motives right then. "I don't know," admitted Daryl honestly.

Merle's expression hardened. "Do you really think I'd put you in danger that way?" he asked in annoyance. "Lettin' those Walkers in, how could I guarantee you wouldn't have gotten killed? All my life, all I've done is try and protect you. Why the hell would I change now, boy?"

_Because you're not the most important person in the world to me anymore and you can't deal with that._ The words were on the tip of Daryl's tongue but he swallowed them quickly, before they could ever be realised. No good could ever come of saying something like that aloud. The trouble was, Merle would never be able to understand that Daryl caring for other people didn't take away the way Daryl loved him. They were brothers and no other relationship could touch that but that didn't mean any other relationship wasn't allowed to matter. Daryl had a moment of sadness, not sure his brother would ever be able to understand that. In Merle's mind, them only having loyalty to each other and jealously protecting it from competition, strengthened their bond, but the truth was, it only weakened it. Daryl was a better man for having let the people of the group into his life, but Merle would never accept that. A grimace touched Daryl's face, at what that cheated them both out of in regards to each other.

"I keep tellin' you, we only got each other," said Merle determinedly. "We gotta trust each other and have each other's back. If we ain't got trust, we ain't got shit."

"I trust you the same as I've ever trusted you, Merle." And that wasn't a lie. Daryl had learnt at a very young age that Merle demanded unwavering loyalty from Daryl, but his version of the same didn't always match up. There were so many times Merle had abandoned him to go and get drunk, or chase whores or just run with his friends, leaving Daryl trapped in that house with their abusive father. Then one day, Merle was gone altogether. Daryl had felt completely abandoned but he knew that if he ever brought it up, his brother would have justified the desertion to himself. Over time, Daryl had learnt to trust Merle would ultimately look after Merle and find a way to twist things so that his little brother should be beholding to him for doing just that. Daryl couldn't even be mad at him because of it anymore. He understood the place of deep pain it was coming from with the need to control others around him. Daryl just wished his brother had as much insight into his own actions as he seemed to have with other people but he guessed that was usually how those things worked for most people. It was always easier to pull the speck from someone else's eye than remove the log from your own.

Merle seemed to miss the pathos of Daryl's statement as he nodded approvingly. "Good to know those prison folk ain't driven out every lick of sense I hammered into your thick skull."

A rumble of thunder provided Daryl with a welcome distraction. He looked up at the now black night sky.

"I told you, it ain't gonna rain tonight," said Merle confidently. "Things ain't come to a head yet."

Daryl was still looking up at the sky. "But they will." _They had to, it was inevitable. _

"I'm takin' a piss." Merle hauled himself to his feet and disappeared into the woods, still holding onto the bottle of bourbon.

Daryl stared into the dying fire, thoughts drifting back to the prison. They would have buried Oscar by now and he knew how low everyone got after another funeral. It brought back too many memories of loss and the finality of it all. Daryl knew he wouldn't have been able to do much about that, but somehow being there, and watching over everyone made him feel like he was doing something. He wanted to know little ass-kicker was tucked up in her makeshift crib with a full belly, all nice and warm. Daryl wanted to walk by the cells and see Hershel settled in for the night, along with Beth and that Carl was keeping out of trouble. He wanted to know for sure that Rick was letting himself have some down time and Glenn and Maggie had worked out the issues they had going on. Daryl wanted to be in that prison right now and be able to walk over to wherever Carol was and have her smile at him and that smile, the one which lit her eyes up, would warm him up from the inside out. It was how Daryl knew everything was going to be alright. His face darkened as he realised he wouldn't be seeing that smile tonight, or any other night, most likely for a long while, if ever again. It was only now, with being separated from that sometimes sweet, sometimes cheeky smile, that Daryl was fully realising how much he'd come to rely on it. He'd have given a lot to look up and see Carol smiling down at him right now but that wasn't going to happen, not tonight.

"Stay safe."

The words he whispered into the fire were as much for him as for Carol because Daryl knew he had to see that smile again, one way or the other, no matter what darkness the future held.

There was no longer an option for him...


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N****: Okay, so fiddled around with the positioning of the three scenes which make up this chapter and the next. Really, the last scene in this chapter and the next chapter belong together, for reasons I'll explain later but I ended up breaking them up for length reasons. I'm not sure I've done the right thing, but it's done now, anyways. So, c'est la vie, I guess. **

**There are thematic elements I'm kinda pleased with in this chapter and the next, but I won't get into it until I've posted chapter 32. Going into these chapters I was a bit vague with what I wanted to achieve initially. I was just basically looking to set up the next big twist and do some exposition, but it turned out to be more than that. I don't know if you'll get the satisfaction I got out of it as the reader vs the writer (there usually isn't a correlation for some reason) but still, I hope you don't hate this chapter anyways. **

**The thing about separating the main characters of a story is finding ways to still give the readers what they signed up for, while managing to progress with your overall story idea. This chapter is one way to go about doing just that. ;) **

**Okay, see you soon with the next chapter where we get the low down on Merle...**

**Chapter Thirty One**

"We accept the love we think we deserve."

~Stephen Chbosky~

_The Perks of Being a Wallflower_

Maggie walked into where everyone was just starting to prepare for breakfast and looked around. "Where's Glenn? I thought Carl was gonna go and relieve him?"

"He did," replied Beth. "Bout a half hour ago."

Maggie frowned. "Oh, okay." She turned around and headed back out of the room and went to look for him. Maggie didn't have far to look. She found Glenn sitting in front of Oscar's grave, shoulders hunched as the stared at the freshly turned dirt. Maggie walked up behind him and came to stand beside Glenn. "Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

Glenn continued to stare at the grave. "You've been trying to tell me I haven't been alright for weeks now."

Maggie grimaced and sat down beside Glenn. "I've been worried 'bout you. You ain't been yourself."

Glenn turned his head to look at her. "See, that's the problem, maybe I have."

Maggie hesitated. "What do you mean?"

Glenn looked back at Oscar's grave, his voice low. "I've been sitting here, thinking about Oscar, what happened to him, how he died."

"It was awful," said Maggie unhappily.

"Yeah."

"And do you blame me for that?"

Glenn gave her a surprised look. "What?"

"You kept tellin' us Merle was gonna make a move, and no one listened," said Maggie tightly. "And now Oscar is dead."

Glenn's face clouded over. "I don't think you got Oscar killed, I think I did."

Maggie's expression was confused. "How do you figure on that? You were the only one tryin' to warn us against Merle."

"But I went about it so badly, no one was listening to me. That's down to me."

"I don't understand."

Glenn plucked at the grass at the edge of Oscar's grave. "I keep sitting here and turning it all over in my head."

"Oscar's dyin'?"

He moved his shoulders restlessly. "Everything, all of it. You know, the first time I saw Rick, he was disappearing into a tank, surrounded by hundreds of geeks."

"And you saved him," Maggie reminded him.

"Yeah, I saved him, even though I didn't know who he was or if he was a good guy or not. I saw someone in trouble and I just saw a way to help him."

Maggie slipped her arm through Glenn's and squeezed it tightly. "And if you hadn't, then all of our stories would have been so different."

"I think about what I did back then, no hesitation, no questions asked and I'm sitting here trying to figure out if I came across the same situation now, if I'd just keep on walking." Glenn's look to her was intense and almost fearful. "And I think I would," he said hoarsely. "I don't think I'd stop and try and help anyone I didn't know anymore. I'm not that person who saved Rick not even a year ago. I'm someone else completely and I don't think I like him."

"Don't," Maggie begged him, "don't say that. You've changed Glenn, just like we all have. This world, full of death, it's changed us all. We can't trust so easy or give as freely as we once did. That don't make us bad people."

"Then what does it make us?" Glenn challenged her sharply. "I was never going to give Merle the benefit of the doubt. He could have brought everyone we lost back to life and I'd still have hated him for what he did."

"Merle isn't an easy guy to give a second chance to," said Maggie wryly, "or even a first one."

"But you all tried," argued Glenn, "but I couldn't. I just hated him, so much, it was eating me up inside."

"I know," said Maggie sadly, "but I know you were just trying to look out for me, for all of us."

"But it didn't do any good," said Glenn anxiously. "Oscar still died and it could have just as easily been you or Beth or Carl-"

"But we didn't die," she interrupted him.

"You got lucky. Hell, maybe if I hadn't pushed so hard then Merle would have really tried to settle into the group. Maybe if I hadn't been on his case 24/7 then he could have found his feet and become one of us." Glenn shook his head impatiently. "But I didn't want that. I wanted Merle to stay an outsider and prove me right and now Oscar's dead because of that."

"You don't know that," said Maggie fiercely.

"I know I'm not the person who saved Rick's life that day," he replied darkly.

"And I'm not the person you first met either," said Maggie determinedly. "Glenn, we've all been through so much, of course we're going to change." She gripped his arm tightly. "It's normal but the thing that really matters is that we don't let go of each other was we do. We have to try and make sure we change to grow closer together, not further apart."

Glenn sent her a pained look. "Do you still want that, after the way I've been behaving?"

Her face softened. "Of course I do. I love you, Glenn, the man you were, the man you are now and the man you will be. I'm in for all of it, you just have to let me be there with you."

Glenn's face crumpled as his head dropped down and Maggie hastily drew him into a fierce hug. "I'm sorry," he managed, voice choked with tears he was struggling to hold back. "I'm so sorry for how I've been. I didn't ever want to push you away, Maggie. I love you."

Maggie blinked back her own tears as she held Glenn's shaking body to hers. "I know," she whispered. "Everything is going to be alright. We just have to stick together, no matter what." Maggie closed her eyes and hugged Glenn to her, feeling like she could breathe for the first time in weeks. This was the Glenn she knew and understood and he was back in her arms. The relief was indescribable and Maggie said a silent prayer of thankfulness. It was like with Merle gone, people could start to think clearly again and Maggie couldn't help but be pleased the man was gone, even if it had ended up costing them Daryl.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl crouched down by the creek and shoved his hands into the icy water. He drew up a handful of water and tossed it on his face to wake himself up properly. A quick glance around the area told him they were temporarily safe from Walker attacks. Merle was still asleep up at the camp. His brother had taken most of the nightshift in sitting up and watching out for Walkers. Daryl had relieved him around three that morning. He glanced up at the sky and saw it was still ominously dark. Daryl grimaced. Walking through the rain was going to be hell, particularly if it lasted for a couple of days. It was impossible to keep your shoes dry and once your feet got wet they started to rot away as you walked around. He wasn't looking forward to that experience. Daryl threw a look back over his shoulder to where he could just make out Merle's inert form through the trees, by the now blackened fire, still sleeping. He knew he had to tread lightly with Merle when it came to finding out if he truly was acting alone or not. His brother was no idiot and was suspicious by nature. Daryl finished washing his hands and straightened up. His thumb ran over the knuckles on the back of his right hand, taking in the small series of scars from fights over the years. His eyes half-closed as he remembered the last time his fists had been bruised and bloodied. They'd still been at Hershel's farm and Daryl had just gotten done with interrogating that kid, Randall.

_Daryl stood up as Carol approached, summarily dismissing Carl before she arrived. "Go bug your parents." Carl looked put out, but wandered off anyways, leaving Daryl alone with Carol. She silently held out her hand to him and he took the bandages and antiseptic cream she was offering with his bloodied hands. _

"_Did you get what you wanted?" Her voice was full of quiet frustration. "Approval, thanks?" _

_He stared at her. _

_Carol's chin came up. "You couldn't hit me so you beat up a kid. Is that who you are now?"_

_Her words stung as he looked away from Carol's disapproval. "He ain't no kid," he said brusquely. "Do a lot worse than hit you if you gave him a chance." She needed to understand that. _

_But Carol seemed to understand more than he'd given her credit for. "That's not what this is about and you know it." _

_Daryl's eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to her, putting his frustration in her face. "What do you want me to do, huh?" Carol just stared at him and he turned away in disgust. "I don't need this," he said tersely. _

"_Don't pretend like you don't care," said Carol sharply. "You want your friendship back, take it. Every kind and smart thing you ever said, take it all back. I don't care, I've lost worse."_

_Daryl eyed her warily, not having expected any of this. _

_Carol wasn't done yet. "But don't sit back here and tend to your bloody fists and pretend you don't care." With one final hard look, she was walking away from him. _

_Daryl distractedly rubbed his raw knuckles as he watched her go, a torrent of emotions raging through him. She always did this to him, stirred up things inside of him, feelings he thought he'd buried long ago. His jaw hardened as something snapped inside of him. Daryl stalked after her, grabbing Carol's arm and spinning her around. "It ain't my fault Sophia's dead!" he yelled in her face, surprising even himself with the force of his words. _

_Carol's reply was quiet in contrast. "The only person who thinks it is, is you, Daryl." _

_Daryl took a step back as though she'd struck him. "I did everythin' I could to find her," he raged at her. _

_Carol regarded him steadily. "I know." _

"_It weren't my fault she didn't have the sense not to get herself bit," he spat out. "All Sophia had to do was stay alive and I woulda found her!" The truth of his own words hit home deeply. "I woulda found her," Daryl repeated raggedly. "She just had to stay alive." _

_Carol's blue eyes were swimming in unshed tears. "I know," she said unevenly. "I know." _

_Daryl's anger was leaving his body and being replaced with a searing pain. "I did it," he said shakily. "I was younger than Sophia and I stayed alive in the woods, why couldn't she? I was comin' for her, I wasn't gonna leave her out in the woods alone." _

"_Like they left you alone in the woods," finished off Carol with painful insight. _

_Daryl looked away, feeling his eyes sting and he didn't want that. He blinked away the threatening tears, a muscle ticking wildly in his jaw. _

"_You know you both deserved to have people looking for you and to be found safely." Carol's quiet declaration cut Daryl to the core. He looked back at her, wide-eyed. She stepped closer, face drawn. "You both deserved better than what you got, you and my Sophia." _

"_I don't want your pity," he rasped, ever defensive about the thought of people looking down on him. He'd grown up with it his whole life. _

"_I'm not offering you pity," replied Carol, regarding him unflinchingly, "just like you weren't offering me pity when you looked for Sophia the way you did." _

_Daryl wanted to back away from this conversation, both physically and on every other level. He didn't know why Carol was so hell bent on pursuing this, on pursuing him. Why the hell did it matter to her what he did and thought anyways? Why couldn't she let this sleeping dog lie? Daryl was running out of ways to get her to back off but the scariest thing to him was he was losing the motivation to even try. The thought made him panic a little inside. _

"_You offered me compassion," Carol concluded simply. _

"_Same thing," said Daryl gruffly, even as he couldn't stop staring at her. _

"_No," said Carol quickly, "it really isn't. Pity has no action to it. You're just on the outside looking in at a person, pitying them from a distance. Compassion," her face crumbled a little but managed to hold it together, "compassion is an act of love. It moves and breathes and needs to do something. Compassion can't sit still and do nothing while someone suffers. Pity can come from contempt and hate but compassion can only ever come from love." _

_Daryl shook his head and took a couple of stumbling steps backwards, terrified by Carol's words. He didn't know what scared him more, the thought that he'd unconsciously offered something loving to another person, or that the same was being offered back to him. He looked down at his bloodied fists, anywhere but at Carol. Suddenly she was by his side, taking one of those hands. He flinched at the contact and tried to pull his hand away but Carol held onto him stubbornly. _

"_You need to get these cleaned out." _

_Daryl tried to pull his hand away again. "I can do it," he bit out. _

"_Didn't say you couldn't," said Carol calmly. "Sit down." _

_Daryl frowned. "No." _

_Carol was already sitting down on the ground. She looked up at him. "Sit down, Daryl." _

_He could have just walked away, but instead Daryl found himself obediently sitting on the ground as well, mirroring her cross-legged position. _

_Carol held out her hand for the medical supplies she'd brought out to him. Daryl mutely handed them over. She opened the antiseptic and splashed some on one of the pieces of dressing. Carol then used that to clean out the wounds on Daryl's knuckles. He pulled a face at the sharp sting of the antiseptic, but let Carol do what she needed to do. _

"_Do you remember me telling you you're every bit as good as everyone else?" _

_Daryl frowned at her, immediately remembering the light touch of Carol's lips on his cheek, even as he scrambled to cover his scarred body from her gaze. _

"_It's not going to do you any good if we're the only ones who believe that." She continued to work on his hand. "You have to believe it too, Daryl, otherwise nothing will ever change for you." _

"_Maybe I don't want nuthin' to change," he threw back roughly. _

_Carol held his gaze. "And maybe you do. It's your choice, Daryl, and you have to make it." _

_Daryl didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything. He just watched her intently as she finished cleaning his knuckles. When she was done, Carol held his hands in hers, surveying her handiwork. She raised her head and looked at him, incredible sadness in the depth of her blue eyes. Without warning, Carol lifted one of his hands to her lips and she kissed the back of his hand. Daryl stiffened at the intimate gesture, instinct making him want to pull his hand away, but Carol had already lifted it to her face and cupped her face with his hand. She placed her hand over his and Daryl was amazed by how soft her face was. The skin of Carol's face felt so delicate against his roughened palm and Daryl swallowed hard, frightened by this unexpected familiarity, but unable to deny himself her touch. Carol closed her eyes and the action forced hot tears to slide down her face and over his hand. The salty attack stung his open flesh but Daryl didn't pull his hand away. Instead he welcomed the small pain. He wasn't sure if all those tears were for Sophia, or if some were being shed for him too, but it felt as though they were flushing out wounds so deep and scarred over, Daryl hadn't even realised they were there. _

"_I can't lose you too," she whispered into his palm, eyes still closed and sorrow etched onto her face. "Please don't pull away, Daryl. We all need you so much. I need you." _

Daryl shook his head, blinking himself out of the old memory. It hadn't taken him too much longer after that conversation to realise what Carol had really meant. Sophia hadn't made it out of that forest and he'd never really had as a kid either. He'd been wandering around, lost and alone for all those years until Carol had bravely come in after him. There was no way for her to know if he was going to reward her kindness with the brutality she was used to, but she'd chased him down nonetheless. Even in the deepest depths of her grief, Carol had grabbed hold of him and dragged him from those woods he'd buried himself in long ago. She'd told him compassion was love in action and it was the first act of love he could ever remember receiving from anyone. It made him want more, to dare to dream for more and it was because of Carol. The barest of smiles touched his lips as he rubbed his knuckles and thought of the old saying, 'finder's keepers'. Carol had found him, now he was hers to keep, whether she wanted to or not. She was his way out of the dark, cold woods and Daryl knew he was never going to let go of that now. The sunlight felt too good on his face.

Daryl looked over to where Merle was sleeping and frowned. If only Merle had wanted out of that same figurative woods as well. Then he would have tried harder to become part of the group and Daryl wouldn't have been forced to choose between having his brother and protecting the others. It was frustrating to think that this was a needless separation from the things which had become so dear to Daryl but on the other hand, Daryl understood his brother. Merle saw himself as a badass and a badass didn't forgive or forget. He couldn't give up his need for vengeance without giving up who he saw himself as. What saddened Daryl the most was that there was a whole lot more to Merle than what he showed the world but that he was probably the only one who was ever going to see that. Daryl ran his hand through his hair and pulled a face. Standing around and wishing away what was done wasn't going to get him anywhere. Things were how they were and all Daryl could do was try and protect the people he loved and that included Merle. He really hoped his big brother would prove him wrong when Daryl had predicted that the biggest enemy Merle had was Merle.

It just seemed unlikely at this point...

**A/N****: Most of you will know that the flashback scene I wrote for Caryl comes from the deleted scenes of Season 2 – Judge, Jury and Executioner. Absolutely check it out on YouTube if you haven't seen it already. It's pure gold and I'm happy I got to add my little piece on at the end with it. 3 **


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N****: Considering how the penultimate chapter of S3 turned out, I find this chapter (which I'd written before I'd seen it) kind of fitting in a way. I'll chat more with you about it at the end. I don't know if you might find this chapter boring or confusing, it's a lot of information, so that can be daunting. See how you go with it, I don't think it's one of my best unfortunately. **

**Thanks for continuing on this ride with me, guys. I'm working all over Easter, but hopefully I'll be able to manage a chapter in between it all. **

**Chapter Thirty Two**

Merle jerked awake out of a familiar nightmare. The sound of bone snapping was still ringing in his ears and the sensation of muscle and flesh being ripped apart set his teeth on edge. His stump sent out spasms of pain as it remembered the trauma Merle had been forced to inflict on himself. He sat up abruptly and immediately saw Daryl wasn't there. A quick turn of his head showed Merle Daryl was down by the creek, washing up. He relaxed a little, glad his brother hadn't snuck off back to his prison buddies. Merle knew Daryl had found it hard to leave them, even though he hadn't said anything. What was important to Merle though, was that Daryl had left, he'd chosen him over them. Merle knew how important Daryl was to that group and losing him was a big hit for the dwindling survivors. He rubbed his aching stump absently as he considered the situation. There was only Rick and Glenn left that were any kind of real threat. Sure, the women could do a bit, but ultimately, the prison crew weren't the force to be reckoned with that they used to be. Perhaps in the not too distant future they'd know what it was like to truly helpless and relying on someone else's mercy.

_Merle's legs finally gave out, no longer able to hold him up. Pure stubbornness and will power had driven him this far, but now even that was gone. He dropped to his knees, head spinning wildly. The truck he'd stolen in Atlanta had run out of fuel miles back and Merle had just gotten out and started walking along the road. Merle had fought off Walkers as he'd staggered along, his freshly cauterised stump starting to bleed again. He was leaving a bloody trail for those undead sons of bitches to hunt him down but there was nothing Merle could do about that now. He was dehydrated and had lost so much blood that he should be dead already. But he wasn't, not yet. A hungry growling noise had his hand snapping up, gun pointed at the noise as he blearily tried to focus on the incoming Walker. Merle squinted, struggling to focus on the snarling blob which had walked out of the trees and was heading directly towards him. He pulled the trigger and the only sound was a click. The sound of his certain death. _

_No more bullets, no more Merle. _

_The last remnants of strength left his body as he sagged to the ground, laying on his back and staring up at the bright blue sky. Even in his addled state, the irony of the situation didn't escape him. He'd hacked off his own hand to escape being eaten on that roof in Atlanta, only to end up being eaten by a road in the middle of nowhere. Merle gave a delirious giggle through cracked lips. "Well, fuck you, irony." The Walker was standing over him now. "And fuck you, ugly," he rasped. "I hope you choke on me". Merle had wanted more force in his final words, one final middle finger to the world which had done him so wrong. He kept his eyes stubbornly open as the Walker bent down, hungry hands outstretched and ready to tear apart this unexpected easy meal. A shot rang out and suddenly Merle was covered in Walker brains as the things' head exploded and it slumped to one side. Merle struggled to work out what had just happened, too near his own death to make sense of it. A man's face appeared directly above him and Merle blinked as the sun hit the man's back and created a halo of light around him. He looked like an angel only Merle could only assume the heavenly being was there to make sure he made it to Hell all safe and sound. It was his last thought before everything went black. _

Merle scratched at his itching stump, remembering the desolation of what he'd thought was the last few moments of his life. There was no way to describe the loneliness of that moment. It was complete and utter hell. To die alone by a road and not have anyone to mourn you or even know of your death, Merle didn't enjoy thinking about that time. However, he did remember what it felt like to be offered a lifeline in amongst all that overwhelming sense of isolation.

_Merle looked up from where he was sitting on the end of his hospital bed as the man walked into the room. The tall, well-groomed man with the easy-going smile walked up to him and nodded approvingly. "You look a lot better than when I found you." _

_Merle half-smiled. "I was road kill when you found me. Don't take much to be a step up from road kill." _

_The man had introduced himself as the Governor a week ago, when Merle had regained consciousness to find himself in a clean bed and his wounds being tended to. The Governor chuckled. "I suppose it doesn't," he drawled. "I'm glad to see you're well on your way to a full recovery." _

_Merle looked down at his bandaged stump. "Yeah, well, as full as I can expect, I guess." _

"_You did a good job cauterising that wound," said the Governor in admiration. "You'd be long dead if you hadn't had the wherefore all to do that." He eyed Merle speculatively. "It's a measure of the man you obviously are. You're a rare man of extraordinary talents, Merle, that much is obvious." _

_Merle was normally suspicious about any new person he met, not putting much stock in their opinions until he'd made up his mind about them. However, he couldn't help but feel good about the Governor's praise of him. He made sure not to show it though. This wasn't amateur hour. "I do what I gotta do," he said coolly. "Always have." _

_The Governor nodded appreciatively. "An admirable trait in a man and one too rarely found, unfortunately." _

_Merle shrugged. "Yeah, well, most men are pussies. All mouth and no action. That ain't me." _

_The Governor just smiled. "I can see that." _

"_Thank you." The unfamiliar words pushed their way past Merle's reluctant lips. He looked away, not used to being beholden to anyone. "Thank you for savin' me," he finished stiffly. "I weren't nuthin' to you, you didn't have to drag me offa that road and save my ass." _

"_Now what kind of person would I be if I hadn't helped out a fellow human being in need?" tutted the Governor. _

"_You'd be like most of the people left in this world," responded Merle dryly, knowing he wouldn't have done the same if the positions had been reversed. _

"_But that's the whole point of Woodbury," he said evenly. "We're trying to create a better world, one we can bring our children into safely and be proud of." _

"_You got quite the set up here, that's for sure." Merle had taken a little wander around as soon as he was steady enough on his feet. No one had stopped him and he'd been stunned by the normal-seeming life the town had somehow managed to make for itself. Of course, the whole town was heavily fortified, but the inhabitants of Woodbury went about their daily business almost seeming unaware of the savagery going on just outside their front gate. Both human and Walker. "It's a sweet deal." _

_The Governor made a regretful face. "One that hasn't come without a real cost, unfortunately." He grimaced. "We've lost a lot of good folk in securing our little piece of Utopia." _

"_Yeah, well, that's the way of the world nowadays." _

_The Governor inclined his head. "Sadly, yes. I see my role here as protector to these people. They have put their trust in me and I intend to ensure that they don't regret that. I'll do everything within my power to make sure Woodbury remains the safe haven it is. We want Woodbury to be a beacon of hope in this dark world, as our numbers increase with fine, upstanding folk to bring humanity back from the brink." _

_Merle thought he knew where this was going now. "I guess that's the polite way of sayin' my time here is up, huh?" His expression hardened. "I don't see me fittin' in with your fine and upstandin' folk somehow. I get it, I'll be outta your hair by this afternoon." _

"_On the contrary, Merle, I was very much hopin' you'd agree to stay within our fold." _

_That earned him a surprised look from Merle. "You do?" _

"_I want you to stay, Woodbury needs you." _

"_Woodbury needs a redneck contingent?" asked Merle sarcastically. "Is that what your townsfolk is clamourin' for, a low life element to the town?" _

_The Governor just smiled. "Some folks just like to think on the surface. They like to see things a certain way and if it all looks pretty, then they don't bother with how that pretty was made possible. They just assumed that right intentions make things come easy to those who possess them." He pulled a chair up beside the bed and took a seat. "You and me, Merle, we know different. We know that this brave new world needs all kinds of folks to bring it into being and keep it safe. Most folks don't like to know why it is they're safe, only that they are. That's where I need men like you, men who aren't afraid of the truth of this world and can face it head on, no questions asked." _

_Merle eyed him warily. "What are you askin' me, Governor? What do you want from me?" _

"_I think you're a man of many talents, Merle," he replied simply, "and I want those talents to be used for the good of Woodbury. I want you to join my crew. I want you to lead my men." _

_Merle scowled. "You don't know me. Why would you make me an offer like that?" _

_The Governor gave a little laugh and scratched at his ear. "I'm an excellent judge of a person. Always have been. I can sum up a person after a minute or two of conversation and I knew right away you were the kind of man I was lookin' for, Merle. I need someone who understands loyalty and what is required to survive in this world. I need a man who isn't afraid of facing down something ugly to create something beautiful." He inclined his head at Merle's bandaged stump. "I think you can appreciate more than most what it is to be without a right hand, Merle. I, too, have been without a man I could trust, one who could act as my right hand, the hand that does what needs to be done." The Governor's look was intent. "I need you, Merle and Woodbury needs you." He stood up. "I'll let you consider my offer. If you're not interested, then that's fine, you can be on your way with as much food and ammunition as you can carry and my best wishes." The Governor clicked his fingers. "Oh, I almost forgot, I had this made for you. Milton!" He called out to the vaguely nervous, bespectacled guy who always seemed to be hovering off to one side. _

_Milton appeared in the doorway carrying a metal cylinder with leather straps. He scurried into the room, eyes darting around nervously. Milton handed the metal piece to Merle. "It's a prosthetic," he explained quickly, pushing up the glasses which had slipped down his nose. "Well, of sorts. Obviously it's quite crude, but it was the best we could do. It'll protect your stump, particularly while you're still healing and I've provided a function for you to be able to attach weapons." He gave an uncertain smile. "You know, like a knife or something. If you wanted to, that is." _

"_Thank you, Milton, I'm sure Merle gets the idea." The Governor smiled broadly. "Do you think it could be of use to you, Merle?" _

_Merle looked at the cobbled together prosthesis and saw that it was actually a very good job. He nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure, this'll work." _

_Milton looked relieved at the guarded praise. "Oh good, I'm glad." _

_The Governor stood up and placed a hand on Milton's shoulder. "Thank you for all of your hard work with this little project, Milton, both Merle and I appreciate it." _

"_Yeah," grunted Merle, still not used to thanking people because of the rarity of folks actually helping him, "thanks." _

_The Governor turned back to Merle. "We'll let you get some rest now but I do hope you'll give serious thought to my offer, Merle. It'd be a real shame to lose you." _

_Merle nodded, not giving anything away in that moment, but already knowing he was going to stay. _

Merle gave a little grunt as he remembered the Governor giving him the prosthesis he was now strapping on his arm. It had made Merle feel more valued than he had in a long time. The feeling had been one Merle hadn't wanted to let go of easily but then, it still had to be on his own terms. That always seemed to be where things would go wrong for him. Merle glanced at the half-drunk bottle of whiskey and pulled a face.

_Martinez shook his head at him. "I don't think you should be doing that." _

_Merle was on his knees, stashing away a bottle of bourbon in a tree hollow. "Don't get your panties all in a bunch, boy, I'm just preparin' for a rainy day." _

"_The Governor asked us to do a sweep of the town and bring back all the hooch we find for Woodbury," said Martinez in agitation. "He didn't say nothing 'bout sticking it in trees." _

"_What the Governor don't know, won't hurt him," said Merle unrepentantly. He stood up and brushed off the knees of his trousers. "You can't tell me that when we're out here, doin' those day-long patrols, that it wouldn't be nice to wet the ol' whistle with somethin' more than creek water." _

"_Yeah, but the Governor don't hold with us getting drunk." _

"_I can hold my liquor." _

_Martinez shook his head in frustration. "Whatever, it's your head, Merle." _

_Merle walked up to him and just smiled. "The Governor and me have an understandin'. I do my thing, he does his. It's worked for us so far." _

_Martinez shrugged. "Just keep me out of it." _

"_As long as you keep your chicken-shit hands offa my hooch, then we ain't got a problem," agreed Merle willingly. _

"Martinez," growled Merle in annoyance, thinking about the other man. He was a good enough soldier, but Merle had always felt that the man was annoyed Merle had been promoted to the top job over him. Merle wasn't sure he squealed on him, but in the end, it didn't matter.

_Merle threw his rifle down onto the desk in the ammunition room a week later and went looking for more bullets as the Governor appeared in the doorway. "How was the patrol?" _

_Merle was in the ammunition cupboard, going through shells. "Not too bad," he said offhandedly. "Some Walkers, but not many. It's too hot for them in the middle of the day right now." _

_The Governor walked into the room and nodded. "And the other thing?" _

"_Got a fresh batch of 'em rounded up in the pit," said Merle easily. "Nice and bitey-like." _

"_Good, I like having them as an insurance policy. I don't like to leave things to chance." _

_Merle gave a distracted grunt as he searched for specific bullets. "Yeah, I guess." _

"_On that note, I think we need to have a little chat, Merle." _

_Merle stopped what he was doing and turned around to face the other man. "What about?" he asked coolly. _

"_I can smell liquor on your breath," noted the Governor evenly. "You been drinkin'?"_

_Merle's jaw hardened. "What if I have?" _

_The Governor's voice remained steady and quiet. "You know I don't like my men drinkin' when they're on patrol. It dulls their senses and puts them at risk." _

"_I ain't drunk and I can handle myself," said Merle flatly. _

"_Of that I have no doubt, but what about the men I've put you in charge of? You're their leader, Merle, they'll follow your example and not all of them have the resistance to alcohol you've cultivated over the years." _

"_That ain't my responsibility to be worryin' 'bout." _

"_But it is, just as you are mine," countered the Governor smoothly. "You have unique talents, Merle, you know I value that about you, but I can't have a loose cannon." He held Merle's gaze unblinkingly, a note of steel creeping into his voice. "I need a team player. I need you to prove to me you can be that." _

"_Are you kiddin' me?" asked Merle angrily. "After all that I've done for you these past months? All the things that I dirtied my hands up with so yours could stay clean?" _

"_I am truly appreciative of the work you've done, Merle, I'm not sayin' otherwise." The Governor's gaze was unwavering. "I'm merely askin' you to consider your priorities. Are you here for yourself, or the greater good? Because if it's for yourself, I'm not sure we can accommodate that any longer. Woodbury needs men who are loyal to the town and the town alone." _

"_You mean you," said Merle bitterly. _

_The Governor inclined his head slightly. "I am Woodbury," he agreed unapologetically. "This town, these people, they need someone to believe in, to put their faith in that everything that is being done for the greater good. That's all I'm asking from for you, Merle, that you have faith in all the things I ask of you are for yours and Woodbury's own good. You either believe in me and my way, or you don't. There is no in between on the matter. I can't let there be, otherwise what we've built will crumble around us. What we need now more than anything is unity, unquestioning and absolute." _

_Merle's jaw hardened. "And if I can't conform the way you want me to?" _

"_I have faith in you, Merle, I always have. I know you'll be able to prove to me and yourself that you belong here in Woodbury, by my side, as my captain." The Governor walked up to him and laid an almost fatherly hand on Merle's shoulder. "You'll find a way to prove your loyalty to us, Merle, I know you will and then what we have will be all the stronger because of it." He smiled that ingratiating smile of his and then left Merle to ponder their conversation. _

As it turned out though, Merle didn't have to ponder long, because the next day he'd run into Maggie and Glenn in town. As soon as Merle had found out Daryl was still alive, all he could think about was reuniting with his brother and then the two of them could blow the dust of both camps off and head out together. It hadn't taken Merle very long to realise just how deep Daryl's loyalties ran and how unapologetic Rick and his crew were for what they'd done to him. That had changed everything for Merle as he saw a way to free his brother from their needy clutches and show the Governor just how loyal he could be by finally giving the prison group the comeuppance they deserved. Two birds, one stone. The trick was going to be in making sure Daryl was kept out of his ultimate plan. It was one thing for his brother to leave with him, effectively choosing Merle over the group, but another entirely for him to out and out betray them. Merle knew Daryl would never do that, so he was going to have to play this next part carefully. If he did this right, he could have the Governor wipe out Rick's group, while still keeping Daryl on side. It wasn't going to be easy, but that didn't bother Merle. He liked playing for big stakes, it got his juices flowing.

"Why you lookin' so pleased with yourself?"

Merle looked up at Daryl's suspicious question and smiled. "I was just thinkin' what a glorious day it was, bro."

Daryl looked unconvinced. "We're gonna get wet today lessin' we find some shelter."

Merle hauled himself to his feet. "Guess we need to find some shelter then," he said jovially.

"You got any ideas?"

Merle grinned. "Little brother, I get so many ideas it ain't natural."

Daryl grimaced. "I know, that's what worries me," he muttered.

"You worry too easy."

"Force of habit." Daryl's look was pointed.

Merle just laughed, feeling good about the potential of today and all the long overdue justice it was going to grant him...

**A/N****: Okay, for those of you who like a little bit of in depth analysis, I just thought I'd let you know what I was hoping to achieve with this chapter and the last. First of all, exposition re: Merle's past, of course, but thematically, I was going for something a bit bigger. Basically, I had Carol and the Governor playing similar roles in Daryl and Merle's life... they both were working as sign posts in a fork in the brother's roads and it was down to the Dixon's to make a choice. The big differences between the two, though, is one, the motivations of Carol vs the Gov for offering Daryl/Merle a different road to take and two, the motivations of Daryl vs Merle for taking those different roads. **

**While Daryl and Merle are brothers, I think there is a fundamental difference in who they are as people. It's my take on the nature vs nurture debate. Daryl has every reason (if not more) to be as self-protective and cagey as Merle... but he chose a different path with the group. I don't think Merle would ever have allowed himself to do that simply because he's not as brave as Daryl emotionally. Merle sees himself as a badass, it's part of his identity and shedding that in any capacity, to belong to Rick's group, well, he wouldn't be able to come at that. **

**Which always brings us back to Merle being his own worse enemy. .**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N****: So, the next two chapters have been giving me some grief, hence the delay in getting them to you. Basically I've split them to give myself more time to think about the next one. **

**I have two major challenges with these two, pivotal chapters. One, is that they are indeed pivotal. I'm laying down exposition and character motivations for the end of this story and I have to have a range of emotions crossed and not make it seem too jerky. A challenge. The other is that because TWD and I approached this in reverse to one another – ie. They started with the brothers being off alone together, while I'm ending with it – I'm trying not to repeat what they've done, because apparently we do think along the same lines. LOL I'm trying my best not to copy conversation the show had with Daryl and Merle, even though I'd planned very similar ones all along. Just like I was thrilled to see the Carol/Merle confrontation in E15 come out so closely to what I'd written previously in this story, because I got to do mine first, I'm now struggling with TWD having gotten their first with this other stuff. . That's why it was so weird having written the last chapter and watched E15 last week. There was so much overlapping going on with Merle/Daryl/Carol that it kinda felt like I was watching part of my story in a way. **

**Hmm, that sounded overly conceited, didn't it? I didn't mean it that way. Just saying that it's been a challenge for me to keep my story separate from TWD's while still staying true to the characters as I understand them. **

**Okay, so, you probably don't care about all of that, I know. Just mildly venting my frustration as I try and get a handle on these two emotionally tricky chapters. I should be able to post the next chapter tomorrow, I've done a big chunk of it already. **

**Now, on a Caryl fangirl note, how telling was Daryl's killing of poor old Merle, the man redeemed too late. :( But that's Merle for you – all or nothing, there is no in between for that guy. MR and NR were so fantastic in those last scenes together, but something that really struck a chord with me was the last little bit, with a sobbing Daryl angrily (and excessively) stabbing Merle in the head. It was Carol and Ed all over again. Carol and Daryl were both severing links with their past in those last, violent actions, born out of both love and frustrated anger that everything could have been so different if Ed and Merle hadn't been the kind of men they were. Carol could have had the husband she deserved, and Daryl could have had the brother he deserved and craved. All that bad history, all that lost opportunity and loss summed up in them destroying the brains of the ones they loved but who also tormented them. Argghhh! The feels I tell you, the FEELS! **

**I don't know if it was the writer's idea to parallel that scene between Carol/Ed and Daryl/Merle so closely, but this Caryl fan girl just loved it. :D It once again demonstrates the similarities between Daryl and Carol and the character growth they've both undergone. In many ways, you could say the likes of Rick, Glenn and even Hershel have de-evolved in some ways, but Carol and Daryl have definitely come into their own. **

**Man, I just want to make it through the S3 finale and make sure that Carol survives. That's all I'm asking TWD writers – cut a girl some slack. You've killed Merle, leave Daryl with something, okay? **

**Chapter Thirty Three**

"There is a little boy inside the man who is my brother...

Oh, how I hated that little boy.

And how I love him too."

~_Anna Quindlen_~

Merle settled himself more comfortable as he crouched behind the outcrop of rocks which over looked a small valley where a group of survivors were huddled together. He and Daryl had just come across them and both men had immediately concealed their arrival on instinct. The two of them were a good distance away, far enough that they couldn't hear the people talking, but that meant they wouldn't be able to hear them either. There were four of them in their rag tag number. Merle's gaze immediately settled on what he perceived to be the biggest threat. There was a large black man, broad-shouldered and powerfully built that stood out from the rest. Merle knew he was the one running the show, could tell by the way he moved about, checking on the others. The other man was white, much smaller and decidedly more nervous-looking. He kept throwing anxious glances around at the woods, flinching at every little sound. There was also a scrawny looking teenage boy who looked more defeated than anything else. He was sat on an overturned log, head down, shoulders slumped. Merle reckoned he had more fight in his missing right hand then that kid had left in his entire body. The final member of the group was easy on the eyes. A slender black woman, fit and even from this distance, obviously attractive. Merle reckoned there was a connection there between her and the big guy, whether she was his wife or relative, could tell it by the looks they shared. He glanced over at Daryl and caught his eye. "You ready?"

"For what?"

Merle looked back at the group. "Reckon I wouldn't mind gettin' my hands on some of those tins of food they've got." He pursed his lips. "Wouldn't say no to that gun, neither."

Daryl didn't hesitate. "We're not takin' their food."

Merle looked at him in surprise. "Why not?"

"It ain't right."

"It ain't right that we go hungry neither," protested Merle.

Daryl wasn't to be swayed on the subject. "We can find our own food." With that he pushed away from the protection of the rocks and turned away, heading off in the opposite direction.

Merle made an impatient noise and glanced over at the camp, just begging to be raided and then took off after Daryl. "You know, we ain't that far from the prison," he talked to Daryl's back. "I reckon it won't take them long to stumble on the group. If you ask me, we'd be doin' your precious Rick and his pals a favour by knockin' some of the wind outta their sails before they got there. That big, black guy could do a lot of damage. Hell, even that weedy kid could with a gun in his hand. You willin' to bet the lives of all those folks in the prison on those four bein' the salt of the earth? Or do you think they look desperate enough to take what they want, includin' the women? You think sassy mouth, for all her spunk, could fight that guy off if he was lookin' to scratch an itch?" There was a slight falter in Daryl's step as Merle threw that out there and he knew he'd touched a nerve, but Daryl kept moving, doggedly not responding. Merle quickened his step and caught up to him, grabbing his brother's arm. "What the hell is your problem?" he asked angrily.

"We ain't stealin' from those people," said Daryl tightly. "They ain't got much more in them, you can tell that by just lookin'."

"Kinda the point, bro," argued Merle. "They'll be easy to take what we want from and they don't look like they're gonna make it anyways, so where's the harm?"

Daryl's face darkened. "We ain't stealin'."

Merle wasn't used to his brother being so stubborn with him. "You're the one who wanted to try your luck with checkin' some houses along the highway earlier today," said Merle in annoyance. "You were all for the lootin' then."

"_Empty_ houses," emphasised Daryl. "Ain't no one to take from in those places. I ain't takin' from people who are tryin' to survive, just like us. It ain't right."

Merle blinked. "Right?" he blustered. "Nuthin' 'bout this is right. You just gotta take hold of opportunities when you find them. That's how you survive now."

"Like you took hold of the opportunity at the prison to have a safe place to live and folks to watch your back?" There was a faint note of bitterness in Daryl's voice which he tried to hide, but Merle still heard it.

"You think they were watchin' my back?" asked Merle in disbelief. "Hell, your best boy Rick told me he'd kill me himself if he saw me back near that prison."

"And you did nuthin' to deserve that, huh?" Daryl's lips tightened. "Nuthin' to piss him off so bad that he doesn't want you back?" He moved his shoulders restlessly. "You had a good thing at the prison, Merle, with the group, but like always, you just pissed any chance you had of helpin' yourself up against the wall." Daryl made a sweeping gesture with his hand. "And why? Can you even answer that question, Merle?"

Merle's chin came up. "We don't belong with those people."

"And cause you decided that, that was how it had to be, right?" Daryl threw back in irritation.

"I was tryin' to protect you, dumbass," growled Merle. "Those folks, they were never gonna accept you, no matter how they acted to your face."

Daryl shook his head and started to walk away again.

Merle kept pace a few feet behind him. "You think because Rick let you run his errands and those women smiled at you pretty that you belonged?" he asked irritably. "Well, you didn't, baby brother and sooner or later they were gonna show their true colours to you and leave you high and dry."

"You don't know what the hell you're talkin' 'bout," growled Daryl over his shoulder.

"I know our kind and their kind don't mix, not now, not ever. It's all just a show."

Daryl whirled back around and glared at him. "Don't you get it?" he demanded in agitation. "Things ain't like they used to be, Merle. There are no rules now, 'ceptin' the ones we make for ourselves. All this them and us bullshit is just in your head, 'cause you won't let go of how things used to be. You never let go of nuthin'."

"Why should I?" demanded Merle. "If I don't fight for me, who else will?"

"I'm here, ain't I?" said Daryl sharply. "I got your back. I've always got your back."

Merle scowled. "So, what, you're doin' me a favour now, is that it?"

"I'm bein' a brother," snapped Daryl. "You might want to try it sometime." He stalked off again.

"Now what in the hell does that mean?" asked Merle in disbelief. "You sayin' I ain't been a good brother to you?"

Daryl stopped walking and looked up at the ever darkening sky, not answering him right away.

"Answer me, boy," Merle demanded to know.

Daryl turned around to face him from where he was standing about twenty feet away. His expression was hard to read. "You left me in that shit hole to fend for myself with that old bastard," said Daryl tersely. "And when you were around, half the time you were hopped up on meth, so, no, Merle, you weren't so great in the brother department."

Merle was genuinely taken aback by Daryl's assessment of their relationship. Admittedly he hadn't been what you might call reliable over the years, but Merle hadn't figured on that being such a big deal. "Now here was I thinkin' you used to look up to your big brother," said Merle shortly.

"I did look up to you, dumbass," said Daryl in frustration, "but that don't mean I'm blind to your faults."

"You think you're perfect now, is that it?" Merle's expression hardened. "Your shit don't stink because you've suddenly think you've got friends?"

"I ain't perfect," growled Daryl, "but I don't pretend to be neither."

Merle made an expansive gesture. "Meanin' I do?"

Daryl's look was pointed. "I can admit I'm wrong."

Merle opened his eyes wide. "I would too; just I never am, is all. That ain't my fault."

Daryl's lips twisted. "Yeah, right."

"Name one thing I've been wrong 'bout," challenged Merle.

"Robbin' that liquor store in Jackson."

Merle pulled a face. "That old guy had more fight in him then I thought. I'll give you that."

"He shot me," said Daryl flatly.

Merle snorted. "Don't be a pussy, it was a graze."

Daryl made an annoyed sound. "You don't have to dig a bullet out when it's a graze."

"We got away, didn't we?" argued Merle. "We got the money."

"Not even a hundred dollars," Daryl countered. "Which you then spent on gettin' high."

Merle shrugged unapologetically. "I had to do somethin' while you were gettin' that bullet dug out of your ass, now didn't I?"

"You know we didn't even need the money, right?" said Daryl in frustration. "I was workin' at the time. We had enough."

"I got bored."

"You got bored and I got shot," snapped Daryl. "Ask me again why you ain't gonna win any brother of the year awards."

"I never knew I was such a burden on you all these years, boy," bit out Merle, face darkening. "If that's the way you feel 'bout it, why don't you put an arrow between my eyes and be done with it," he said angrily. "Then you can crawl back to-" He didn't finish his sentence as Daryl suddenly snapped his crossbow up and aimed it right at him. Merle tensed, unable to react in time as Daryl released a deadly bolt. He waited to feel the projectile embed itself into his flesh, but the impact never came. Instead, the arrow flew over his shoulder, literally whistling past his ear and then there was a grunt from behind him. Merle whirled around just in time to see a Walker drop to the ground, one of Daryl's arrows sticking out of its left eye socket. He blinked in surprise, shocked he hadn't heard the thing coming up on him. "Son of a bitch," he murmured, taking in the unmoving corpse. Merle turned back to see Daryl walking up to him and then by him to get to the Walker. The younger Dixon brother stuck his foot on the Walkers head so he could retrieve his arrow. Blackened blood oozed out of the neat wound as Daryl bent down and wiped the arrow head on the grass before loading it back into his crossbow.

Daryl glanced at him. "I got your back, bro," he stated calmly and started walking again.

Merle gave a considered look at the Walker and then followed after Daryl at a slightly slower pace. They walked without talking for another couple of hours, coming across the occasional Walker and dispatching them with ease between the two of them. Merle's stomach was starting to rumble noisily but the sound of the raging water they were now walking along drowned it out. He cast a quick look at the creek which had swelled with mountain run off, the white water bouncing off the rocks and tree limbs settled in its way. In the distance thunder rumbled, warning that there was more water on the way. That thing was going to be a death trap once the rain hit. "We need to decide which side of this thing we wanna be on," he commented. Daryl kept walking, not answering. Merle poked him in between the shoulder blades with his prosthetic knife. "Hey."

Daryl turned around, eyes scouting quickly around Merle before settling on him. "What?"

Merle raised his voice so he could be heard over the roaring water. "I said, we need to pick a side of this thing to be on." He jerked a thumb at the river. "We ain't gonna find a place to cross soon."

Daryl looked at the river and nodded. "Yeah."

Merle inclined his head and walked them away from the river. He didn't like all that noise, meant you couldn't hear things coming up on you. The sound of the raging water lessened as they walked through the trees and away from the river.

"You got a plan where we're goin'?"

Merle shrugged at Daryl's question. "Nutin' in particular."

"You know we've been goin' 'round in circles these last two days, right?"

Merle glanced at him. "So?"

"So we can't keep doin' that. We gotta have a plan."

"I don't like to think too far ahead."

Daryl pulled a face. "I think it's time you rethought that strategy, brother. We're out here, alone, hungry and vulnerable. We need a plan."

"Somethin' will turn up, it always does," was Merle's casual reply.

"Somethin' like starvation and death?" countered Daryl wryly. "Is that the kind of somethin' you were thinkin' of?"

"We ain't starvin'," said Merle dismissively. "And ain't no one who can take on the Dixon brothers. We're force to be reckoned with." His enthusiasm was met with a grunt from Daryl. They walked through a line of trees and abruptly found themselves in a small clearing, in the middle of which was a log cabin. It wasn't big, probably a hunter's cabin he'd built himself but Merle grinned to see it. "What did I tell you?" he crowed. "Somethin' came up."

Daryl stepped back behind a tree, carefully scrutinising the area. "Don't look like anyone is in there but it's hard to tell."

"Only one way to find out." Merle confidently stepped out into the clearing and made a bee line for the cabin.

"Merle!"

He heard Daryl's hissing his name in disapproval but ignored it. Merle walked straight up to the door and pressed his ear against the wood. No sounds came to him, so he went with the element of surprise. He abruptly shoved open the door, his gun raised as Daryl came up behind him, crossbow at the ready. Merle stepped into the wooden cabin and looked around. It was deserted and there was nowhere for anyone to hide. A potbelly stove was against one wall, covered in dust and clearly not having been used for a long time. Against the other wall was a lumpy looking mattress on the floor with a pile of grey blankets sitting on top of it. Daryl walked up to it and nudged the blankets with the end of this crossbow, making sure nothing was lurking there. Against the back wall was a table with a couple of plates and bowls and a few bits of cutlery. Merle walked up to the table for a closer look and discovered there were no knives. Looked like someone had already been through here and cleaned things out. Merle gave a grunt of annoyance. "Find anythin'?"

Daryl was crouched over a dust-covered cooler. He opened the lid and looked inside. "Nah, nuthin'."

"There's gotta be somethin'," protested Merle.

"We ain't the first ones through here," surmised Daryl. "If there was anythin' here, it's long gone."

"At least we got somewhere to stay for the night."

Daryl shook his head. "I don't think so. It's not safe to stay in houses these days. Walkers always seem to end up at them." He looked out the one, dirty window at the woods encircling them. "It'd be too easy to surround us."

"Well, ain't you just a glassful of piss these days," said Merle in annoyance. "You asked for some shelter, but I guess this don't meet your new high standards."

Daryl flicked him a glance but didn't rise to the bait. "Told you," he said shortly, "this is too easy to surround, it ain't safe. Plus, that other group could come up on us at any time, we don't know which way they were headin'. They'd checked this place out like we are and we'd be sittin' ducks. We should move on."

Merle blew out an aggravated shot of breath through his nostrils but had to concede Daryl had a point. He cast a final look around the cabin, seeing if there was anything at all that might be of use to them and as he did, he noticed a loose floorboard. Merle walked over to the board and crouched down.

"What are you doin'?"

"This board ain't right." Merle shoved his prosthetic knife under the board and levered the wooden slat up. It popped out easily, as though that wasn't the first time someone had done that. Curious, Merle bent down so he could peer under the board. It was dark and the smell of dirt wafted up to him. A glint caught Merle's eye and he stuck his hand into the space to retrieve it. He pulled out a bottle of clear liquid and held it up to the light. "Well, lookee here." Merle pulled on the cork of the bottle and sniffed the contents. A big grin lit up his face. "Someone's been makin' themselves some white lightnin' out in these here hills."

Daryl shook his head and half-smiled. "You're like a bloodhound for findin' that shit." Merle and moonshine had a long and colourful past.

"It's one of my favourite talents," agreed Merle happily. He stuck his head back under the board. "That's all there is," he said in disappointment.

"Are we done here now?"

"Alright, alright," said Merle as he stood up and dusted off his knees. "Unbunch your panties, I'm a'comin'." Grabbing the bottle of illicit liquor, Merle followed Daryl out of the cabin, pleased with himself for his find. It felt like a good sign of things to come. "You and me together is lucky, baby brother," he called out to Daryl who was already out in the clearing, killing a wandering Walker.

Daryl looked over his shoulder at him after pulling his knife out of the Walker's head. "I guess we don't have the same definition of lucky."

Merle just smiled and tucked the bottle of shine safely away in his backpack, not letting Daryl's lack enthusiasm dampen his own. He was going to get his brother to snap out of his mood, all they needed was some time together and Merle knew they had plenty of that now. His smile widened as he caught up with Daryl, happy with how things were going his way these days.

It was long overdue.

**A/N****: Okay, so hopefully the next chapter will be more interesting to you. Sorry. **


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N****: Thanks for all the support re: the last chapter, guys. It really helped me get this chapter done, which is one I'm quite nervous about because it basically sets up the premise of the rest of the story. So, it has to work... and I never know if a chapter does until folks read it. I always like writing dialog between Merle and Daryl – something the show didn't give us enough of, unfortunately. :( Like Caryl, I'll take what I can get, but I always want more. And on a side note – YAY, Carol made it through the season 3 finale. Wahoo! I read one of the writers saying they had a s/l coming up from Carol and at the time I was worried it'd be her being killed during the finale. Seeing as that didn't happen, I can only hope Carol has a story arc in S4 for me to enjoy. My fingers are crossed. :D **

**Anyways, back to my dabblings in TWD world. **

**I don't want to lead you too much with this chapter with much of a preamble (even though I do, but I'm trying not to be insecure over having gotten all the nuances of what I was going for between the brothers) but I will say the quote is very fitting for what I was going for. **

**With that (no doubt) confusing statement, I'll just let you read and catch you at the end...**

**Chapter Thirty Four**

"How dreadful...to be caught up in a game and have no idea of the rules."

~Caroline Stevermer

_Sorcery & Cecelia: or The Enchanted Chocolate Pot_

Daryl stared unseeingly into the fire as Merle threw the scraps of their meagre supper out the opening of the cave they'd discovered just as it got dark. The cave wasn't deep, but enough for them both to fit comfortably in and still have a fire and not choke on the smoke. The opening was protected and hard to see. They'd only found it when the ground Daryl had been standing on had given away and he'd rolled down an embankment, much to Merle's amusement. As he dusted himself off, Daryl had spied the little hidey hole and called out to his brother. It was enough to give protection against the elements which continued to threaten doom and gloom on them. Plus, any Walker that did somehow manage to stumble upon them could only get in one at a time. That made it easy to defend. They'd set up camp, cooked a couple of snakes and a racoon for dinner and now there was just another night to get through. "You shoulda buried that," Daryl commented absently, still staring at the fire.

"Nah," said Merle easily, "it'll be fine. Not enough meat on those bones to attract Walkers."

Neither one of them knew if that was true, but in usual Merle fashion, he'd decided it was, so it was. Daryl didn't comment, he'd argued enough with Merle today. "We need a plan."

Merle sat down in front of him, back against the rocky and dirt wall. "I got me a plan." He held up the bottle of 'mountain dew' and grinned.

Daryl looked at the bottle and then back at Merle. "A long term one."

"You ain't havin' fun, little brother?"

Daryl kept his voice calm, knowing pushing too hard wouldn't get him far with Merle. "We can't keep wandering out in circles out in the woods. It don't make no sense. I reckon we need to fix on a plan and set to it."

Merle gripped the cork of the hooch in his teeth and tugged it free with a small popping noise. He spat out the cork and looked Daryl over. "You got yourself a plan, bro?"

"We need somewhere safe to hole up. Somewhere we don't have to keep movin' on every day. We need regular access to food, water and shelter." He looked intently at his brother. "We need people, Merle."

Merle didn't answer, just took a long gulp of his drink. He grimaced and wheezed a little as the liquor hit his throat. "Smooth," he rasped, looking like it was anything but. Merle held out the bottle to Daryl. "Your turn."

Daryl shook his head. "I told you, one of us should stay sober in case-"

"I'll stay sober," Merle interrupted him. "I'm sick of you walkin' 'round like someone just shot your dog. Drink up and cheer the fuck up some, bro."

"Drinkin' don't change nuthin'," said Daryl stubbornly.

"I know, it just makes you not give a shit." Merle giggled at that, clearly having amused himself with his wit. It was that or the alcohol was getting to him. The stuff was probably 160 proof at least. "Besides, drinkin' ain't done me no harm over the years."

Daryl could make a case against that particular assertion, but he didn't bother, just tried to get Merle back on track. "Just tell me if you know somewhere we can go." He made a vague gesture with his hand. "You musta had a place to hole up in all this time. Why can't we go there?" Daryl held his breath waiting for his brother to reply. Another group would confirm his and Rick's worst fears but it was better to know what they were up against. That was the whole point of being there.

Merle pursed his lips and eyed Daryl speculatively. "I might know some place," he admitted at last.

Daryl made sure his face registered no emotion. He shrugged. "Okay, where?"

Merle stretched out his legs in front of him, crossing his legs at the ankle. "Tell you what," he said casually, "let's play a game."

Daryl frowned. "What?"

"I'll answer your questions, if you answer mine."

Daryl hesitated, not sure if that was a good idea but knew he had to find out if Merle was out here alone or not. The safety of the others depended on it. "Okay."

"I'll even let you go first." Merle shoved the bottle in his direction. "One drink for every question."

Daryl scowled. "I don't wanna drink."

Merle just shrugged. "Okay, we won't play then. Suit yourself."

Daryl looked away to hide his frustration. He needed to know where he stood with Merle and this other group, otherwise everyone in the prison was going to remain in danger. Daryl knew he had to play along, on Merle's terms, otherwise this wasn't going to go anywhere. He looked back and stuck out his hand. "Give it here," he grunted.

Merle grinned and handed over the bottle. "That's more like it. _Now_ it's a party."

Daryl took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful of the homemade alcohol. The sharp liquid hit the back of his throat and made it spasm without warning. Daryl coughed and turned red as he tried to catch his breath.

Merle burst out laughing at his reaction. "Too strong for you, little brother?" he asked in amusement. "You forgot how to drink like a man?"

Daryl wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and blinked back the involuntary tears the choking alcohol had caused. "I ain't drunk nuthin' for awhile," he growled, voice raw from his coughing. In fact that night at the CDC was the last time Daryl had drunk anything alcoholic and that was getting on to being almost a year ago now.

"It don't show," said Merle mockingly.

"So, where is this group of yours, how many are there, when-?"

Merle held up a hand to stop his stream of questions. "Now, hold up there, little brother. The deal is one drink, one question, one turn at a time."

Daryl grimaced. "Fine, where are the others?"

"'Bout six hours worth of hikin' from here, give or take. It's a place called Woodbury."

Daryl's eyes widened in surprise. "It's a whole town?" That wasn't great news. Too many variables, it was going to be a hard situation to control.

"It ain't your turn for a question." Merle held out his hand for the bottle. "Gimme here." Daryl handed over the bottle and Merle immediately took a drink. Licking his lips, he viewed Daryl with interest. "Why did you stay with them after abandonin' me on that roof top?"

Daryl scowled at Merle's intentionally antagonistic question. "I looked for you, but like usual, you'd left without me." Merle rolled his eyes at Daryl's dig. "I had no way of knowin' where you were. Rick had a plan, didn't seem to suck, so I went with 'em."

"I asked why you stayed," Merle countered, "not why you left with 'em. After that shit at the CDC, you had to know Rick didn't know what the hell he was doin'. Why didn't you leave them then and there and be done with it?"

Daryl's face clouded over. "Sophia went missin'," he muttered and looked away. "I had to find her."

"Why you?" Merle countered. "You weren't her daddy, lessin' you've been holdin' back on me all these years. Why did you give a shit 'bout some kid you just met?"

Daryl looked back at him. "That's another question," he noted coolly.

Merle snorted in amusement. "Fine." He handed over the bottle. "I'll wait my turn."

Daryl scowled at the bottle in his hand and then took another swallow of deceptively innocent looking liquid. This time it went down a little easier. Clearly his body had given up fighting him on the subject. "How did you hook up with these people?"

Merle absently scratched his cheek with one grubby fingernail. "Well, I gotta be honest, I wasn't in a great way. The Governor found me and took me in. Made me real welcome like."

"The Governor?" asked Daryl with interest.

"That's another question," Merle reminded him with a smirk. He held out his hand for the bottle. "My turn."

Daryl reluctantly handed over the bottle, not really wanting to answer any more of Merle's questions, but not having a choice.

"Why did you give a shit 'bout what happened to that little girl?" Merle threw back a noisy gulp of the moonshine before swallowing and giving his own thoughts on the subject. "You tryin' to find a way into her mamma's pants, is that it?"

Daryl's face hardened at Carol being talked about that way. "Sophia needed findin' and I could do that."

"Only you didn't."

Daryl's face clouded over as his hand tightened involuntarily on the bottle. "No," he rasped, "not in time anyways."

"And still you stayed with them," Merle observed. "There was no little girl to be rescued then, no need for you to be playin' hero. Why'd you stay with Rick and his pals?"

Daryl shrugged. "Why not stay with 'em? It weren't like I had other options open to me."

"I gave you another option when I turned up at the prison," Merle noted. "I didn't see you leapin' at the chance to leave with me then."

"Is that another question?" Daryl challenged him. He needed to get as much information out of Merle as he could before the moonshine had its effect on him. Daryl already felt light-headed.

Merle pulled the bottle out of his hand. "Fine." Another mouthful of booze. "Shoot."

"How many people are in Woodbury?"

"'Bout seventy, give or take."

"Mainly men, women or children or a mix?"

Merle cocked his head to one side and regarded Daryl with interest. "Why do you care?"

"I want to know what I'm getting myself into. If it's mainly men, that's one thing. If it's mainly women and children, that's another."

"How so?"

Daryl shrugged. "Women and children need lookin' after."

"I thought you liked that kinda thing these days," observed Merle sardonically. "You've gone all Mother Theresa on me with your acts of charity for those prison folks. You lookin' for a sainthood in Woodbury?" He smirked. "Lookin' for someone to build you a statue to your newly acquired virtuous nature, boy?"

Daryl held his gaze steadily. "Is that another question? You haven't answered all of mine yet."

Merle half-smiled. "It's a mix. There's enough fit and able folk to be able to protect the town, you won't be expected to do all the heavy liftin'."

"And that's what you were doin' there?" asked Daryl quickly. "The heavy liftin'?"

Merle didn't answer, just held out the bottle to him. Daryl hid his frustration at this game and snatched the bottle from his hand. He quickly downed a mouthful and swallowed, feeling fresh warmth spread out from his throat and impact on his entire body. Daryl blinked a couple of times in an attempt to focus. He didn't have enough food in his stomach to be drinking this shit. Daryl braced himself against Merle going back to his line of questioning, finding them harder to answer with any kind of neutrality. They were all cutting too close to home, but Daryl supposed that was Merle's intent. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

"Which one is your favourite?"

Daryl's brows knitted together at Merle's unexpected change in tactics. "What?"

"Which one of the prison crew is your favourite?"

Daryl stiffened. "I ain't got one," he growled. "They're all the same to me."

Merle snorted. "Now come on, boy, this game don't work if we start tellin' lies to one another. You got a favourite, just like I do."

Daryl looked at him in surprise. "You got a favourite?" He screwed his face up. "I thought you hated 'em all."

"See, now that's where assumin' gets you into trouble, little brother," said Merle casually. "I liked that old man. He was smart, spoke his mind, didn't always agree with him, but you know he thought 'bout everythin' that did come outta his mouth. That's a rare thing. And that boy-" Merle chortled, "hell, what isn't there to like 'bout a kid that would blow your head off as soon as look at you. He's turnin' his daddy's hair grey with worry and I'm all for that. Fun to watch."

Daryl scowled. "So, Carl's your favourite."

"Now, there you go, assumin' again, boy. I warned you 'bout that." Merle looked so relaxed leaning against that wall it made Daryl anxious. "I reckon you know who my favourite is."

A muscle ticked in Daryl's cheek. "I don't."

"Well, little old sassy mouth, of course," said Merle blithely. "Hell, I ain't never seen such a change in a woman. When I first saw her, she wouldn't have said shit if her mouth had been full of it. Now, she's got all these opinions and the fire to back 'em up." He smiled. "I like a woman who knows how to give as good as she gets. I ain't into that victim shit." Merle chuckled. "And I reckon she's got a wicked sense of humour. Those ones are always real hell cats in the sack and I never did mind gettin' a few scratches while I'm strokin' those pussies."

Daryl was fighting the need to smash the bottle in his hand and drive it into Merle's smirking face. He just knew his brother was picturing doing things to Carol in his head right now and it drove him crazy. Daryl had never had this kind of need to inflict physical pain on Merle before and he hated feeling this way. But it was Carol, and he couldn't have small feelings about her anymore. Memory of her lips on his came back to him and there was fresh pain at their separation. He'd made it his life mission never to rely on anyone, not to need anyone because they only ever left you but with Carol his resolve to have a barrier between himself and others had just given way. Without thinking about it, Daryl took several deep drinks of the moonshine in his hand, needing to try and dampen down all these huge and dangerous emotions he was doing battle with.

"She's your favourite too, ain't she?"

Daryl was regretting his impulse to drink so quickly as all the alcohol bombarded his system at once. The room was starting to spin around him and he took a moment to process Merle's words. "What?" he hedged.

"I used to think it was Rick, but I can see now, sassy mouth is your favourite too."

Daryl looked away, trying to keep his expression neutral, but seeing as he could no longer feel his face, he didn't know if he was managing it. "No, she ain't," he rasped.

Merle gave a bark of laughter. "You never could lie for shit, boy. I don't know where I went wrong with you on that one."

Daryl sent him a dark look and shoved the bottle back at Merle. "Shut the fuck up and drink," he growled. Merle just looked amused as he took the bottle back. He took a drink while Daryl tried to get his addled thoughts together. "Where, no wait, who-who is the Governor, what did you do-do for him?"

"That's technically two questions," noted Merle, "but I'm feelin' generous, so I'll allow it."

Daryl closed one eye and put all of his efforts into focusing with one. "So?"

"He runs Woodbury, charmin' bastard, when he wants to be."

"And when he don't?"

"Then he's a ruthless prick." Merle looked unconcerned. "He does what needs to be done to keep Woodbury runnin'."

"He does or y-you do?" _Damn, was he slurring now?_ Daryl shook his head again, impatient with himself for starting to lose his grip on things already.

"Let's just say we enjoy a mutually satisfying relationship," said Merle dryly. "We both give each other what we want from the other."

"Sounds like you're bangin' the guy," said Daryl flatly.

Merle gave a snort of laughter at the observation. "He ain't my type."

"Okay, so what did you do for him?" Daryl tried to keep himself focused.

"I was his right hand man." Merle held up his prosthetic hand. "And yeah, I get the joke, don't bother. I made sure things ran right for him and the town."

Daryl was under no illusions what that meant. "So, you were his bitch?"

Merle arched an eyebrow at him. "I ain't no man's bitch. I did things my way to get the job done."

"But you still did as this Governor said?" Daryl was having trouble picturing Merle following anyone's lead.

"It suited me to, so there was no harm in it."

Daryl wondered why Merle could apply that logic to his own situation and yet when Daryl did the same thing, he saw it as some kind of betrayal of Daryl's loyalty to him. It occurred to him that there had always been two sets of rules in Merle's head, one he lived by and the other he applied to everyone else. And they were completely different. Merle didn't give him a chance to speak his mind on that particular subject though, because he shoving the bottle under Daryl's nose again.

"Drink up, sunshine."

Daryl reluctantly had another drink. Everything was starting to get fuzzy now and Daryl struggled to simply continue to sit up straight and not slide to one side, which he felt like he was kind of doing anyway, but he wasn't sure. All his senses were affected by the high proof alcohol by now and he hoped to hell that Merle was going to be true to his word about keeping an eye out for Walkers, because Daryl wasn't sure he'd even be able to stand at this point, let alone fight.

"Why her, why Carol?"

Daryl looked up at Merle, blinking to try and focus on his brother's face. He knew there was a reason why he should be careful about answering this question, but for the life of him, Daryl couldn't remember exactly why that was anymore. All this talk of Carol was just making him miss her more and a feeling a maudlin longing swamped him. He wanted to look over at the entrance of the cave and see Carol standing there and making him feel like he wasn't alone in the world, just like she always did.

"I told you why I wouldn't kick her out of my bed," Merle pushed him, seemingly unaffected by the alcohol so far. "Why you got a soft spot for sassy mouth?" He gave a leering look Daryl's way. "Or most likely a hard spot."

Daryl mulled the question over for a moment, ignoring the sexual innuendo and staring at the bottle in his hand. It was a good question and one he actually hadn't asked himself directly. "I like the way she looks at me," he admitted at last in a low voice. "She was the first one to look at me like I wasn't shit, like I mattered."

"Why would her opinion matter so much?" Merle demanded to know.

A slight frown settled on Daryl's face. "Cause Carol could see me, see through all the bullshit and she still said I was just as good as them." Even now the memory threatened to overwhelm him. "Every bit as good," he whispered. The idea had been a revelation for Daryl and it had been the foundation on which he'd started to see himself and the group in another way. His entire life, Daryl had desperately wanted to fit in and not be alone and his entire life he'd pretended that hadn't been true. His fledgling attempts at friendships as a kid had always been thwarted by either Merle or his daddy and in the end, Daryl had given up. He'd pretended he didn't need anyone and didn't want to be needed by anyone else. He'd done such a good job of playing that part, Daryl had actually come to believe it himself. At least, that was until Carol had come bursting through his self-protective walls like some little terrier, doggedly latching onto his heels and refusing to be shaken loose. Carol had forced him to tell the truth about himself and what he wanted. Hell, she was still doing it and even though most of the time it scared the crap out of him, Daryl was finding that more and more, the ride was becoming worth the risk of a fall. Daryl had never felt like he sat right in his skin. He didn't fit in with his Merle and Daddy's way of doing things. He didn't want to take drugs or beat on women. He didn't want to confront all the time and be the leader. All the things Merle and his Daddy held up as being a 'real' man made no sense to Daryl. He didn't want to cheat and rob folks just because he could, or felt owed, it just never sat right with him. Daryl had always felt like an outcast in his own family. "She showed me that I could belong, that I do belong. It's all I ever wanted." He didn't even know if he spoke those last, far too revealing words aloud and he looked quickly up at Merle to see his reaction.

Merle didn't seem to have one. "You don't need other people to tell you who you are, little brother. It ain't down to them."

_But I need other people to show who I really am to, otherwise there ain't no point in me drawin' my next breath_. Daryl made sure those words didn't escape his lips. Merle would definitely scoff at the sentimentality of them and call him weak. Merle might claim to not need people but Daryl did. He knew that now and couldn't go back to pretending otherwise, no matter how much it might piss his brother off. "So, Woodbury," he pushed Merle, "we'll head for it tomorrow?" A thought occurred to him. "Lessin' you pissed 'em off and they don't want you back?"

Merle's expression was one of total innocence. "Now why would you say a thing like that, boy?"

Daryl didn't pull any punches. "Cause-cause I know you," he slurred.

"I ain't worn out my welcome in Woodbury," said Merle confidently. "Fact, I wouldn't be surprised if they organised me a parade when I turn up, all safe and sound and shit."

"A p-parade?" snorted Daryl.

"I am beloved in that place, little brother," Merle assured him. "Beloved I tell you."

That thought was highly amusing to Daryl and he couldn't help but start to snicker.

Merle grinned at him. "You don't see me headin' up a parade, boy?"

"I already seen that," chortled Daryl, "and it weren't pretty."

Merle threw back his head and gave a bark of laughter. "Hell yeah, that week in Tijuana, that was a hell of a good time. You remember we didn't sober up for the entire week?"

"I remember your naked wh-white ass bobbin' all 'bout while you-you tried to outrun that bull that got away from that float in the parade," he snickered, starting to get the giggles. "No matter how much I drank, I couldn't get that picture outta my head for the rest of the week." Daryl couldn't remember exactly how Merle had ended up naked in the middle of the parade in that moment, but he did remember it being as funny as shit.

"I got me a beautiful ass," grinned Merle. "You should count yourself lucky you got to see it, boy."

Daryl couldn't help but giggle a little at Merle's relentless self-promotion. Merle gave a rasping laugh, joining in as they reminisced about a less complicated occasion, even though it hadn't seemed like it at the time. "Re-remember that guy in the store," gasped Daryl around his laughter, "how he was screamin' at you to put pants on until he saw the bull and then-then he was tryin' to hide behind you?"

Merle was laughing too at the memory. "He was grabbin' hold o' me so tight, I thought we was engaged by the end of it."

Daryl burst out laughing and the two brothers continued to recollect about that wild week in Mexico, not caring that their mirth might be attracting undead attention. It had felt like a long time since they'd done this and for a moment, Daryl forgot about everything else and just had fun sharing some of the brighter moments of their long history together. Moonshine and memories could make you forget anything else was important and for a little while, both brothers had a respite from the harshness of their situation and strained relationship.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep, thanks to the moonshine in his system and for a long time after, Merle sat in quiet contemplation of the last couple of days. He'd been playing possum with how much moonshine he'd been taking with each mouthful and only had a mild buzz on, unlike the passed out Daryl. Merle stared at his slumbering brother and mused over the fact he was sure Daryl had given away much more than he intended to tonight. It had made Merle realise just how much he'd been in denial about Daryl's real feelings about the group and the impact they had on him. He figured once he got his brother away from their needy influence, Daryl would start to see things his way, just like always. Only that wasn't happening and after listening to the way Daryl talked about the others and especially Carol, Merle now knew it wasn't going to. Merle rarely underestimated people or situations, it was a point of pride for him, but he'd done it with the prison crew. The one thing that Merle had always been able to count on was that Daryl would always be loyal to him first and foremost. It came from surviving that shit hole of home together. Only they knew the true horrors that had been visited upon them and it bound them even closer. It was him and Daryl against the world, that was how Merle understood their relationship. It was his safe haven, the one thing he could count on. It defined him as much as he had known it defined Daryl too. Only now all that had changed.

His brother loved them more than him.

Merle was forced to swallow the sudden lump in his throat at the painful thought. He scowled, angry at himself for being so weak even as emotions churned inside of him. Merle glared at the sleeping Daryl, feeling a slow growing fury that his brother would abandon him this way. He'd never had much in this world, but the one thing Merle had always thought he could count on was Daryl's loyalty to him. It was the old case of not knowing what you had until it was gone. Merle was torn in two at the thought that he really had lost Daryl, his only family in the world, the only person who'd stuck by him his whole life. He couldn't sit there and pretend like this betrayal didn't matter. Merle's hands curled and uncurled into fists, unconsciously betraying his internal turmoil. Merle loved his brother, but he was going to make him pay for hurting him this way. Maybe when Daryl saw the lengths Merle was willing to go to keep him in his life, then his little brother would realise just who deserved his loyalty more. A hard expression settled over Merle's face as he knew what he had to do next. Once and for all, Daryl was going to have to choose who he loved the best.

Merle was going to make sure of that.

**oooOOOOooo**

The pounding in Daryl's head was the thing which eventually woke him. He reluctantly forced his eyes open and an involuntary groan left his lips as the mid-morning sun hit his eyes and caused fresh pain to flood his system. Daryl lifted his throbbing head from the ground and blearily looked around. "Merle?" he croaked, disorientated as to what time it was. That hooch had really done a number on him and Daryl was struggling to remember all the events of last night. He smacked his dry lips together, trying to work up enough saliva in his parched throat to swallow. Daryl forced himself to sit up, swaying uncontrollably as his equilibrium was slow to respond. Putting out a hand on the wall of the cave, Daryl steadied himself. "Merle!" he called out again, this time louder. Daryl gave a grunt of pain as his own voice reverberated around in his own head. "Fuck," he hissed painfully. This hangover was going to kill him... hopefully. Daryl looked around the cave, taking in the smouldering camp fire and the lack of anything Merle related. He scowled, the first feeling of unease settling in his queasy stomach.

Daryl made himself stand up on unsteady legs and staggered out of the cave. He kept himself upright with one hand on the cave opening as he looked for his older brother. "Merle!" he hissed, ignoring the pain in his head now. The ability to think was rushing back to Daryl now, as he realised there was no sign of his brother anywhere. His pack and gun were gone and Daryl's stomach clenched painfully as a sick feeling of dread flooded through him. Merle was gone and Daryl knew without a shadow of a doubt where he was heading. He didn't know why he was so sure, it was just an instinct that was screaming in his head for Daryl to get moving. A surge of adrenalin had Daryl quickly grabbing his back pack and throwing it on before he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. Panic pushed him forward and helped him ignore the pain in his head as Daryl broke into a run, rushing through the woods with only one thought in his head.

He had to get back to the prison before it was too late...

**A/N****: And so the games begin. ;) Anyone got an idea about what Merle might be up to? Will Daryl get there in time? Is everyone going to make it out of this story alive? Stay tuned to find out, folks. ;) **


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N****: Okay, quick intro for this chapter. **

**First of all, thank you as always to my reviewers, favouriters etc. You're helping me get this last part of this story done, so you're all legends. :D **

**We're so close to the end, guys. I'd love to be done by Chapter 40, that'd be awesome. I'm usually not great at predicting these things, but hopefully that will be how it goes down. There is a huge amount of action and emotion and general payoffs to get through in these last chapters, so I've got a lot of work ahead of me to try and bring this fic home. I'm trying not to think about it otherwise I'll freak myself out. LOL **

**Anyways, this chapter has a pretty big range of emotions going on. I hope it all makes sense and ultimately works together but I guess we'll see. **

**Let's see what you make of it, hmm? **

**Chapter Thirty Five**

Daryl's lungs were bursting but he refused to stop running. He had no idea of how much of a head start Merle had on him, but every precious second which ticked by and Daryl wasn't back at the prison, felt like another second closer to disaster. Daryl was trying to work out what Merle would do next and the thing which had him most worried was the knowledge that even his brother probably didn't know yet. Merle was opportunistic. He was used to thinking on his feet and taking advantage of whatever situation he came across. That could mean anything when it came to the prison group. The thought made Daryl run faster as he weaved his way through the trees. He'd picked up some of Merle's initial tracks, just enough to tell him he was right in knowing where his older brother was heading. Now he didn't bother with tracking, he just ran, turning his fear into fuel for sprinting. Sweat ran into his eyes, blurring his vision and not giving him enough time to react to what happened next.

The collision knocked Daryl off his feet and tore the crossbow from the sling off his shoulder. He did one complete turn before hitting the ground with a noisy hiss of air leaving his lungs. For a split second Daryl didn't know what had happened and that was enough time for the Walker he'd collided with to stagger to his feet. The thing had just stepped out from behind a tree and Daryl had run smack into him. He didn't even feel the impact, so much adrenalin was coursing through his body. The Walker lumbered over to him, starvation written all over its sunken cheeks and eyes as it lunged at this chance of fresh meat. Daryl was on his back and instinctively brought both of his feet up to plant them against the Walker's chest and throw him off of him. It worked, the Walker stumbled back a few feet, almost losing his footing, but not quite. Daryl's hand went to his belt for his knife but it wasn't there, he'd lost it in the impact. He looked around frantically and saw his knife on the other side of the Walker, out of his reach. The slobbering creature was lurching towards him again and Daryl deftly rolled out of the way, grabbing a sizeable rock as he did. He threw his shoulder against the again charging Walker and this time succeeded in knocking it off his feet. Daryl raised the rock up in one hand and brought it down with as much force as he could muster on the snarling Walker.

There was a satisfying popping sound as the Walker's skull gave way under the violence of Daryl's blow. Daryl knew instantly he'd done enough damage to the thing's brain that their conflict was over but he couldn't stop himself pounding that rock into its head again and again. A sudden rage exploded deep inside and he pulverised the former man's skull into a smashed brain and shattered bone. Blackened blood and chunks of brain spat out at his face and chest as Daryl unleased a frenzied attack on the defunct creature. The angry frustration he'd been trying to hold inside for so long was suddenly unleashed in a blood bath of violent activity. All Merle had to do was choose to be his brother rather than the badass Merle Dixon, just this once and none of this would be happening. Daryl knew that deep down Merle could have found a way to fit in with the others if he'd really tried. Then Daryl would have had it all, his brother and a real family to belong to. But Merle hadn't been able to give him that even now, when the world had ended and there was the chance at a whole new way of life. Things didn't have to be how they always were. There had been a way out, but Merle refused to even consider that chance and expected Daryl to follow his lead, or rather, his inertia.

It was the last straw for Daryl as he made that Walker pay for all the bitter disappoints of his life, all the people who'd claimed to love him, who should have had his back but didn't. He'd never come first with any of them, not Merle, not his Daddy or Mamma, not once. "Why?!" he screamed at the lifeless corpse with its molten face of destroyed tissue. "Why can't I be enough for 'em!" Daryl gave a broken sob as all the strength left his body. He dropped the rock, his muscles shaking from the energy he'd just expounded in caving in the Walker's head. Daryl sucked in another ragged sob as he dropped to his knees, knuckles driven into the ground with his elbows locked as he attempted to keep himself upright in some way. Salty tears mixed in with even saltier sweat as Daryl struggled to get himself back under control, chest heaving painfully. "Damn you, Merle," he rasped raggedly, the raw pain he could hear in his own voice making him wince. "It didn't have to be like this. Why are you makin' me do this?" In that moment he hated his brother for backing him into this corner, a corner where only one of them was likely to walk away from. Truth was, before he'd met the others, Daryl would have just let Merle kill him if push had come to shove. Merle called him soft, but Daryl knew it was because he'd valued Merle's life more than his own for so long. He just hadn't seen himself as worth the fight. But now others had fought for him and Daryl finally started to believe that maybe he was worth more than just letting everyone make decisions for him. Now Daryl had something to live for, a place to belong to, and a woman who smiled every time he walked into a room and it made him not want to give up this life without a fight.

Even if it was Merle he'd have to fight to do just that.

The thought hurt Daryl more than anything else. Merle could have joined him in this new life, made it better, but instead, he was going to have to fight his brother to the death for it. Daryl knew there was no other way now and he squeezed his eyes against the pain that thought caused him. Off in the distance Daryl could hear the growls and grunts of Walkers honing in on the sounds of his scuffle with the oozing Walker beside him. Sheer force of will propelled Daryl to his feet. He stumbled on unsteady legs to scoop up his knife and crossbow before breaking into a run again, eager to be gone before anymore Walkers saw him. He had to get back to the prison and all hell broke loose. For the first time since he was a young child, Daryl prayed, desperately pleading with whoever might care to listen, that he wasn't going to be too late...

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol gave a light knock on the entrance to Axel's cell and smiled at him. "Hi there, mind if I come in?"

Axel looked up from where he was sitting on his bunk bed and smiled. "Oh, hey, Carol. Yeah, sure, make yourself at home."

Carol stepped into the cell and held out the plate of food to Axel. "We missed you at breakfast this morning."

Axel looked down at the offered food "I weren't hungry." He took the plate. "But I guess I could eat somethin' since you've gone to the trouble of bringin' me room service and all." Axel looked down at the plate of beans. "Thanks, Carol."

Carol took a seat on the bed beside him. "It was no problem. I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were doin' okay. I know you've been missing Oscar."

"I had a bad dream 'bout him last night," confessed Axel unhappily. "Oscar was chasing me down and throwin' his head at me."

Carol wrinkled her nose at the graphic imagery. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Axel with a sigh. "He missed most of the time." He pointed at his face. "Oscar didn't have no head, his aim was off."

"I guess it would be," said Carol kindly.

Axel put a spoonful of beans in his mouth and looked Carol over as he chewed. "How 'bout you, you doin' okay?"

Carol nodded. "Of course, why wouldn't I be?"

"Daryl's gone," said Axel simply.

She didn't need to be reminded. "I know," she said quietly. Carol had been keeping herself busy, which was easy to do with life at the prison, but she still felt Daryl's absence like she'd lost a huge part of herself. It was though a large piece of her heart had detached itself and walked out those prison gates and Carol didn't know if she'd ever see it again. She tried not to think about it because she'd become paralysed and there was no more place for such indulgences nowadays.

"He left because of you, you know."

Carol looked at him in surprise. "What?" Her shoulders stiffened defensively. "No, he didn't."

"Sure he did, Daryl left to keep you safe, to keep everyone safe, but mainly you."

Carol bit her bottom lip, surprised at Axel's insight. "What makes you say that?"

"Merle ain't right in the head," Axel observed casually. "He was a grenade just lookin' for a reason to go off and Daryl threw himself on top that thing to stop it hurtin' others."

Carol couldn't help but feel that was somewhat of an over simplification of the situation. "Daryl wants to try and do right by Merle. They're brothers and that loyalty runs deep. Daryl loves his brother."

Axel shrugged. "You can love things and they can still try and kill you. Like me and those giant jawbreakers."

Carol knew she shouldn't ask. "A jawbreaker tried to kill you?"

"I sneezed with one of those all day ones in my mouth, it got stuck in my throat and I nearly choked to death." Axel pursed his lips. "The only thing that saved me in the end was bein' hit by that car. Popped that sucker right outta me and I only broke both arms doin' it," he finished off proudly.

Carol didn't know whether to laugh or cry at Axel's ongoing misfortunes which he always managed to somehow find an upside to. "That was lucky," she said, trying not to have any trace of irony in her voice.

His head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, it really was." Axel smiled at her. "You know, you're real sweet, Carol. You reckon if Daryl hadn't been around, you and me mighta made a go of it?"

There was a lot to that sentence which Carol didn't know what to do with. "I like you, Axel, very much, but I don't think so."

"Cause of you and Daryl," said Axel and philosophically.

Carol moved a little uncomfortably. "There is no me and Daryl, Axel, we're not a couple."

Axel looked at her like she'd grown an extra head. "Cause you're a couple. Hell, it was the first thing I noticed when I met y'all."

Carol actually felt herself blush a little and was glad for the dim lighting in the cell. "No, Axel, we're not like that." Was that a bit of wistfulness she heard in her own voice? Carol wished she and Daryl had more time at the end to clarify what those kisses had meant. She knew what they meant to her and thought she had an idea of what they meant to Daryl, but a woman likes to hear those kinds of things from the man herself. Trying to guess at what Daryl might be thinking about her was disrupting her sleep more than Carol would like to confess to. If he was even thinking about her at all.

"Yeah, you are. Daryl looks at you like our Bubba used to look at Nibbles."

Carol arched an eyebrow at him. "Was that sentence supposed to make sense or did I just have a stroke?"

Axel smiled at her teasing. "Bubba was our pig when I was a kid, used to think he was people."

"And Nibbles?"

"My brother's hamster." He leaned forward in a conspiratorial fashion. "They were in love. Bubba wouldn't let Nibbles outta his sight. He'd dote on that little furry bastard and carry it all 'round with him. They even slept together. Bubba would let Nibbles eat his food and he'd try and take your hand off if anyone ever came near that hamster. He was real protective like." Axel absently scratched an old scar on his hand. Carol guessed it was most likely Bubba related. Axel sighed. "To the point of bein' right dangerous 'bout it. He bit my daddy's finger clean off one day when he went to pick Nibbles up." He wiggled his little finger at Carol. "His pinky. Boy howdy, I've never seen my daddy so mad."

Carol assumed there was a point to this story, but she wasn't exactly sure what it was. "I can see how that'd make your daddy unhappy."

Axel nodded. "And then some. In the end there was only one thing we could do."

Carol gave him a sideways look. "Which was?"

"We ate it," said Axel easily.

Carol blinked. "What?"

"The pig I mean, not the hamster," said Axel hastily. "Not worth botherin' with the hamster, no real meat on it and it'd be hell to skin." He was looking at her like she should be feeling better now, but Carol had no idea why.

She wrinkled her nose. "Remind me again, am I the pig or the hamster in that story?" asked Carol hesitantly.

"That don't matter," said Axel dismissively, "but you get my point, right?"

Carol arched an eyebrow. "You had one?" Any correlation Axel was trying to make between her and Daryl that ended up with someone being eaten wasn't one Carol wanted to really think about.

"Sometimes love don't make sense and don't look right from the outside, but that don't mean that it isn't worth fightin' for, even if it's probably not gonna work out in the end like you think." Axel shrugged. "It's still worth it. At least, I reckon that was what Bubba would say, you know, if he wasn't dead." He hesitated. "And a pig, cause pigs don't talk."

Carol's lips were twitching as she attempted to match Axel's serious mood. "Well, thank you for that, Axel. That's given me a lot to think about." _Like you probably should have not taken quite as many recreational drugs as you obviously have in the past. _

Axel seemed to take her words at face value and it encouraged him to expound more of his philosophies about love. "I reckon love is like bein' punched in the face, you know what I mean?"

"I really don't."

"Sometimes you see it comin' and other times it catches you unawares but one way or the other, you know that it's happened cause it always leaves a mark."

Carol was just staring at him now. "I wonder why Hallmark never made a card saying that exact same thing?" she pondered straight-faced.

Axel shrugged. "Beats me." He gave a lop-sided smile. "I guess I'm just tryin' to say that you and Daryl are lucky with what you got and if things were different, I know I sure would have liked to try and punch you in the face, Carol."

Rick chose that exact moment to be walking by Axel's cell. He stopped abruptly and sent a shocked look at Axel. "What the hell?" Rick's concerned gaze fell on Carol. "You okay, Carol?"

Carol tried not to laugh as she held up a reassuring hand to Rick, shaking her head. "It's okay," she said in amusement. "Believe it or not, Axel was just bein' sweet."

Rick's expression darken as he sent Axel a hard look. "Punchin' a woman in the face ain't sweet," he growled.

"That ain't what I meant," said Axel hastily. "I wouldn't punch a woman. We were talkin' 'bout love."

Rick sent a confused look at Carol for clarification.

Carol just smiled. "I'd explain but I don't really understand either except it involves a hamster and a pig," she said wryly. "But it's okay, Rick, don't worry. We're fine here."

Rick looked hesitant to leave. "Alright," he drawled at last, "but just so you know, I'm gonna be in my cell, a few feet away, if you need me, Carol." With a last pointed look at Axel, Rick kept walking.

Axel sighed. "Now I got Rick on my case." He grimaced. "What's wrong with me? I keep makin' things worse with you."

Carol covered his hand with her own. "You really haven't, Axel. I appreciate everything you said, truly."

"You know Daryl's gonna come back for you, right?" There was so much certainty in his voice that it actually gave Carol hope.

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"No, it's gonna happen. I had a dream 'bout it."

"Another dream?" asked Carol indulgently.

"Aha. You were in a tower and Daryl kicked down the door and killed the Loch Ness monster to get to you. It was real romantic like."

Carol was biting down on her inner lip to try and keep a straight face. "It sounds it."

"Course, I don't know why he was dressed as Dolly Parton," mused Axel thoughtfully. He pulled a face. "I don't mind tellin' you, Daryl don't make a pretty woman." Axel brightened. "But he's got real nice legs." His eyes widened and he looked a little stricken. "Don't tell Daryl I said that when you see him next," Axel said hastily before pausing and looking briefly contemplative. "Lessin' you think that thing 'bout his legs would make him like me more, then you can tell him."

"I will make a judgement call if it ever comes up in conversation," Carol promised him, face actually aching from trying so hard not to laugh. Impulsively she leaned over and gave Axel a kiss on the cheek. "Don't ever change, Axel. The world needs you just as you are."

Axel grinned, obviously pleased at the compliment. "Okay, I won't then."

Carol laughed. "Good." She smiled. "Well, I've got to go and relieve Carl on gate duty. I'll leave you to finish your breakfast in peace."

Axel sent her a warm look. "You can interrupt my peace anytime, Carol."

Carol just smiled and headed out of Axel's cell to collect her rifle. She walked by Beth. "I'm gonna be doin' a long watch on the gate," she informed the younger woman. "You okay to handle lunch today by yourself?"

Beth's sent her a quick smile. "Sure, no problem. I'll bring some lunch out to you."

"Thanks, that'd be great." Carol kept walking until she was out of the cellblock. Once outside, the muggy heat of the day immediately latched onto her, settling a glean of sweat on her skin before she'd even taken half a dozen steps. Carol glanced up at the heavy skies, black and ominous and shook her head at them. "If you're gonna do somethin' then do it," she admonished the storm which had been gathering for a couple of days now. "All this humidity just ain't polite." In the distance there was a rumble of thunder. Mother Nature's way of telling Carol she worked to her own time timetable and wasn't interested in the plight of mere mortals. Carol sighed as the wet heat clung to her. It wasn't going to be a pleasant shift on watch, but it was a necessary evil. They were too small in number and low in ammunition to afford to be caught off-guard.

Carl heard her approaching and turned around to smile at Carol. "Hey."

"Hey," she returned easily, "how's the watch been?"

Carl pushed back the rim of his hat so he could look up at Carol as she came to stand by him. "Borin'."

"Borin' is good."

"I guess."

Carol looked down at the empty plate of food by the watch tower. "You had your breakfast." It was more of a statement of fact, then a question.

"Yeah, Beth brought it out to me." Carl smiled and then looked down at his feet at the mention of the young woman.

Carol hid her own smile. "Your dad has just come back from guard duty on the south fence. He'd getting some sleep. I hope you're plannin' on doin' the same."

"I told Beth I was gonna see if I could find her some mushrooms. I thought I saw some out by the fence that runs along the kitchen block. I want to go back and check."

Carol hesitated. "By yourself?"

Carl's young face hardened at the hint of concern in her voice. "I can take care of myself, Carol."

"I know that."

"And we ain't had no more Walkers in that kitchen area since we cleaned it out on the first day," he argued, even though Carol wasn't saying anything. "It's real safe."

Carol inclined her head, knowing he had a point. Everyone struggled with how much freedom to give Carl. He was so often expected to step up and act like a man that it was easy to forget he was still a boy and needed protecting as well. "Okay, just be careful."

"I know," said Carl in exasperation. "I ain't an idiot."

Carol just smiled. "It's a parent thing. One day, if you have kids of your own, Carl, you'll get that there are just some things a parent has to say," she said gently. "Even if your kid isn't an idiot."

Carl looked a little sheepish. "Sorry," he muttered.

Carol tapped the top of his hat playfully. "It's okay."

Suddenly Carl's attention was off her and he was stepping past her, squinting out at the line of trees behind Carol. She turned around to see what had caught Carl's attention. The usual handful of Walkers were milling around aimlessly. It wasn't only the living who were affected by the stifling humidity. The wet heat seemed to slow the Walkers right down as well. Unless there was the chance of a meal, of course. All bets were off then. Carol scanned the area. "What's wrong? What do you see?"

"I thought I saw someone runnin' through the trees," said Carl slowly, squinting out through the wired fence.

They both stepped closer to the fence to look. Suddenly Merle burst from the tree line, running as though the devil himself was hot on his tail. Carol gasped and immediately looked for Daryl, but she didn't see the younger Dixon brother appearing from the woods at all. Her stomach clenched in fear about what that could mean. A few Walkers caught sight of Merle sprinting across the clearing between the woods and the prison gates. They immediately started to move towards him.

"Open the gate!" Merle yelled at them as he kept running, making a beeline for the entrance to the fence.

Carl and Carol looked at each other, immediately suspicious. Merle with no Daryl could mean anything and Carol couldn't think of any of those things being good. She ran over to the gate, watching as Merle dashed to close the small distance between them.

He slammed against the gate. "Open it!" he screamed at her, just as a Walker came up behind him. Merle swung round and jammed his prosthetic knife up under the Walker's jaw, killing it instantly. He looked back at Carol as more Walkers closed in on him. "Open the gate!" he bellowed at her.

"What's happened?" she asked urgently. "Where's Daryl?"

Merle was busy killing another Walker, slitting its throat and then letting it fall on the ground so he could stomp its head in. "Let me in," he panted, out of breath from running and now fighting. "Daryl needs help."

Carol's stomach curled into a knot. "What happened? Is he alright?"

"Let me in!" shouted Merle as more and more Walkers converged on him. "Daryl is gonna need all of our help! He's in a bad way. I need y'all to help me fetch him back."

Carol's instincts were telling her not to trust Merle, but then this was Daryl at stake. She just couldn't bring herself to take a risk with his life. She looked back over her shoulder at Carl. "Stay back," Carol instructed him and then she was scrambling to undo the lock on the gate to let Merle in. As soon as the gate was unlocked, Merle bolted in as the Walker hordes surged behind him. Carol leant all her weight on the gate to get it closed but it wasn't enough against the five Walkers all struggling to get in. Merle threw himself up against the gate to help close it and then Carl was joining in. The three of them managed to close the gate as Carol hastily redid the lock. "What is it? What's happened? Is Daryl hurt?" she asked anxiously as she turned around and then froze. While she'd been locking the gate, Merle had taken the opportunity to grab Carl and somehow get his gun out of his hand. Merle now had Carl's own gun pressed to the boy's temple, an arm wrapped around his throat to keep him still. Carol's eyes went wide at the betrayal. She snapped her rifle up and aimed it at Merle's head. "You son of a bitch," she bit out. "Let him go!"

"Now, settle down there, sassy mouth," rasped Merle, his breathing still uneven. "We don't want no one to get hurt with you wavin' that thing around, now do we?"

"Shoot him, Carol!" shouted Carl, struggling to break Merle's hold on him but the older man was too big and strong for him. "Shoot him in the head!"

"Well, ain't you the blood thirsty little bastard?" asked Merle, voice tinged with amusement. He caught Carol's eye. "What do you think, Mamma Bear, you willin' to take a chance on your aim and my reflexes to try and blow my brains out?"

Carol tightened her grip on the rifle, eyes narrowing as her finger tightened ever so slightly on the trigger. Merle was just staring her down, confident he had the upper hand.

"Do it!" yelled Carl. "Kill him!"

"You gonna do it, missy?" Merle taunted her. "You gonna put your good friend Rick through what you went through with your little girl? You gonna be able to live with killin' his baby the way he can live with killin' yours?"

The muzzle of Carol's rifle wavered slightly as she fought an internal battle. Merle was clearly intending to cause strife and there was a wild look in his eye which told Carol that he didn't care how he did it. She slowly lowered the rifle as Merle smirked at her.

"Atta, girl, I knew you were a smart one."

"NO!" said Carl in distress.

"I'm not risking your life, Carl," said Carol quietly.

Merle inclined his head. "The rifle, drop it and kick it away from you."

Carol did as she was told, eyes not leaving his. "Now let Carl go."

"Step back."

Carol did as she was told and then Carl was being shoved at her. She caught him as he stumbled but he quickly regained his footing to whirl around and glare at Merle.

"Give me my gun back!" he spat, face flushed so his freckles stood out.

"Where I come from there is a finder's keepers rule," drawled Merle.

"You stole it from me," said Carl bitterly.

"It ain't my fault you can't keep a holda your shit," said Merle unrepentantly. "That's still findin'."

Carl lunged at Merle in a fury and Carol had to react fast to grab at his waistband to stop him from attacking the man who had a permanent knife instead of one hand and a gun in the other. And that was before you counted in Merle being at least twice the size of Carl.

"Lemme go!" he snapped at her in frustration.

"Carl, stop it!" said Carol sharply. "This isn't achieving anythin'."

Carl shook her free but didn't try for Merle again, even though he still looked like he could bite through metal right then.

She looked back at Merle, keeping her voice steady. "Where's Daryl?"

Merle half-smiled. "If I know my little brother, and I do, I'd say he's wakin' up 'bout now and high-tailin' it back here."

"He's alright?" asked Carol, trying to keep the fear out of her voice. "You didn't do anythin' to him?"

"Course he's alright," said Merle in vague annoyance. "I ain't gonna hurt my own brother, now am I?"

"You put a gun to a teenage boy's head," said Carol darkly. "I'd say you're pretty much capable of anythin', Merle."

Merle snorted. "I was just playin' with the boy, he knows that, don't ya, boy?"

Carl just glared death at Merle who seemed to find that pretty funny.

"What are you doin' here, Merle?" asked Carol sharply. "What do you want?"

Merle kept the gun trained on them both as he answered without hesitation. "I tell you what I want, sassy mouth, I want what's mine." He took a step closer, so that the gun was in her face. "And you two are gonna help me make that happen."

Carol instinctively put herself in front of Carl, shielding him with her body as she stared Merle down.

Today wasn't going to be a good day, she could just tell...


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N****: Okay, so wow, folks liked the last chapter, judging by the comments. I'm so pleased. :D **

**You never quite know when you send your little babies (chapters) out into the world as to what happens to them – if people enjoy them, are annoyed, unmoved, bored etc by them. That's why writers can never get enough of comments. Sure, it may come across as a bit needy (which we are, no questions asked LOL) but it also tells us what works and what doesn't... and that directly feeds back into the story for most writers. The more feedback we get, the more we can hone the original idea we have in our head to suit our audience. I don't mean change our ideas, just tweak them a bit to keep people as engaged as possible while we tell our stories. **

**I do try and reply to as many people as I possibly can, as often as I can. I'm so sad about not being able to reply to the guest reviewers like the wonderful GG who is always so generous and enthusiastic about this story. Just know I would if I could, all you guest reviewers. :D And to everyone else who favourites and follows, they're all the things which give writers a real shot in the arm. If you haven't attempted to write before, don't underestimate the power a simple click of the button can have on those insecure souls looking for validation that their stories aren't a big pile of steaming poo poo. LOL **

**Anyways, guess I just wanted to say I felt the love on the last chapter and it really helped me with trying to work out what are going to be very tricky, dramatic chapters. **

**BTW, on that note, I saw a lot of people had much Axel love to give and I'm toying with doing a (most likely) one shot prequel to this fic involving Daryl and Axel to explain why Daryl is just so hyper-protective when it comes to Axel when we open in the first chapter. **

**Anyone interested? Not? It'd be humorous, well, attempted humour anyways. ;) **

**So, on with this chapter, of which the theme is fear... I think I've hammered it home enough in the following chapter, but I thought I'd mention it anyway. LOL I know Rick is a fan fave too, so I gave him a nice big chunk of this chapter as well. **

**Hope you all enjoy as we draw ever closer to the dramatic conclusion of this story... **

**Chapter Thirty Six**

"Bran thought about it. 'Can a man still be brave if he's afraid?'

'That is the only time a man can be brave,' his father told him."

_George R.R. Martin_

_A Game of Thrones_

Rick sat up on his bunk bed and swung his feet over the side. He rubbed his face, fighting against his tiredness despite the couple of hours of sleep he'd just gotten. Regular sleep seemed a thing of the past nowadays. You just grabbed what you could, when you could. Rick supposed he could have kept more regular hours, but he wasn't about to ask anyone to do what he wasn't prepared to do first. The prison afforded them protection, but Rick wasn't going to trust those fences surrounding them as their only line of defence. They had to continue with the twenty-four hour watch duties, it was just too important not to. He stood up and stretched his hands above his head, trying to work out a few kinks. Walking out of his cell, Rick went and leant over the railing, to look down on the floor below. His eyes scanned the area, doing a quick head count. Hershel was rocking Judith in her makeshift crib with one hand, while he stirred a pot of stew, which looked like it was going to be lunch, with the other. Beth flitted around, finishing up the food preparation. Rick glanced out at the window in front of him, realising he must have slept longer than he intended. He walked around to the stairs and was halfway down them when Glenn and Maggie walked into the room.

"The smell of my stew has got 'em comin' outta the woodwork," said Hershel with a little smile as he looked over at the three newcomers.

Maggie strolled over to her father and gave him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "You do the best stews, Daddy, always have." She stopped to coo down at Judith. "Hey there little girl, you been behavin' yourself?"

"Not a peep outta her," said Hershel. "That's one happy baby."

Rick smiled and walked over to his daughter. He put out his hand to Judith and she grabbed hold of his finger with one plump, baby hand. Rick loved to feel the way his daughter gripped his finger so strongly. It meant she was healthy and that made him unbelievably thankful. He bent down and kissed her soft hand.

"Watch those fingernails of hers," Hershel cautioned him. "They're getting' real long and they scratch real easy."

"They need cuttin'," said Beth as she ladled some of her father's stew into a bowl. "Otherwise she'll end up scratchin' herself up."

Rick grimaced as he looked at the tiny fingernails on Judith's hand. "Lori always used to cut Carl's fingernails when he was a baby. I was too scared. He was so tiny, I was worried he was gonna move and I was gonna jab him with the scissors."

"You need those little baby scissors," replied Beth, "or even better, those little clippers you can get."

"I'll keep an eye out for them with the next run into town," volunteered Glenn as he picked up two bowls and headed towards the stew. "I can't see them being high on the list of things for people to loot. We might get lucky."

"Or a file," said Maggie thoughtfully, accepting the bowl of stew Glenn had just filled for her. "That'd work too."

Rick nodded. "That'd be good, thanks, Glenn."

"No problem," said Glenn around a mouthful of stew.

Rick looked around. "Where's Carl?" He frowned a little, trying to remember the roster. "Wasn't Carol meant to relieve him this morning?"

Axel had just walked into the room and overheard that last part. "She did," he informed Rick and made a bee line for the bubbling pot. "Alright, soups up."

Rick's frown deepened. "Then where is he?"

"Carl said he was goin' mushroom huntin' today," volunteered Beth as she walked by them with the bowl of steaming stew. "He might still be doin' that."

"Outside?" asked Rick, his tone harsher than he intended.

"No," said Beth, still walking and calling back over her shoulder now," by the kitchen block. He said he saw some there the other day."

"Oh, okay, thanks," said Rick, slightly mollified.

Beth stopped in the doorway and turned back around. "I'm just takin' some lunch out to Carol. I'll ask her if Carl said anythin' to her when I do."

Rick nodded. "Okay, yeah, thanks, Beth."

"The boy's probably just lost track of time," said Hershel calmly. "There's no reason to fret, Rick."

"I know." Rick hesitated. "I think I'll just go and remind him of the time though." He headed towards the door.

"Tell Carl he'd better high tail it back here," called out Hershel, "otherwise he's gonna miss out on my world famous stew."

Rick sent him a distracted wave of acknowledgement as he walked out the door but then he was picking up his pace as he hurried to check for Carl at the kitchen block. He didn't know why, but he had a bad feeling all of a sudden and he just needed to make sure Carl was okay. Rick knew he was probably overreacting, but he couldn't help himself. He made it to the kitchen block without letting himself break into a run, but when he got there, Rick couldn't see his son anywhere. "Carl!" he yelled and then listened intently for an answer. None came. Rick did a complete circle of the kitchen block and even checked inside but he didn't find him. "Carl!" he called out, this time unable to hide the anxiety in his voice. "CARL!" Rick shook his head in frustration as he tried to think where his son could be. Thinking that they might have crossed over somehow and Carl might already be back at their cellblock, Rick headed back there. This time he did run. He burst into the communal area, scanning the faces who looked over at him in surprise. "Did Carl come back?" he asked urgently.

Glenn frowned and shook his head. "No, not yet."

Rick ran his hand through his hair, damp from sweat from his exertions in this weather.

"I'm sure he isn't far away, Rick," offered up Maggie but Rick could hear the uncertainty in her voice even as she moved to reassure him.

Behind him, Beth ran into the room, looking stricken. "Guys, there is no one on the front gate. Carol isn't there."

Rick's stomach dropped as he turned around to look at Beth. "Are you sure? She wasn't off goin' to the bathroom or somethin'?"

Beth bit her bottom lip anxiously. "No, I called and called to her, but she didn't answer."

Rick's mind was racing. "Was the gate closed? Did you see any kind of signs of a scuffle?"

"The gate was closed," said Beth quickly. "And I didn't see any blood or nuthin'." She grimaced. "But I guess I wasn't lookin' neither."

Rick's lips pressed together in frustration, even as he knew it wasn't Beth's fault. The young girl wasn't trained to look for things like that. He brushed past her. "I'm gonna check. Come get me if Carl turns up." Rick didn't look back at the group as he hurried out of the room. He knew they were all just going to show varying degrees of concern and he couldn't see that right now. Rick could feel the way his heart was thumping painfully in his chest as his anxiety levels rose. The thought of Carl being in some kind of danger had Rick fighting against breaking down entirely. He couldn't take one more loss, he just couldn't. Already it felt as though his sanity and very soul was hanging by a thread after the loss of Lori. Rick had dug his fingernails in until they bled, just to hold himself together enough to keep putting one foot in front of the other. There were some days when he just wanted to scream from the pain and unfairness of it all, but he didn't.

There was no point.

Him howling at the moon wouldn't bring Lori back, wouldn't give his children back their mother. But his control was drawn out to the limit. Most days Rick felt like just skin stretched over raw nerve endings and even the lightest touch from another person would cause searing pain to shoot all through his body. Sometimes even a conversation, their breath on him, would make Rick almost shake with pain. He was hanging on by a thread and if anything was to happen to one of his children, Rick knew that thread would break entirely. Even as Rick ran down towards the front gates of the prison, a part of him wished he could just lie down on the ground and never have to get up again. He was exhausted from being in this kind of fear all the time, it was unrelenting. The thought of just letting go and allowing everything just to wash over him, to consume him utterly was a tantalising one. The idea of letting go of the shreds of his sanity and retreating into a world where these things didn't threaten to rip his still beating chest out of his heart, were calling to him relentlessly ever since Lori had died. To have no more pain, to dissolve inside madness and just let all the frailties of humanity and sanity be taken from you was something Rick had been trying to fend off for weeks now. It was the siren's call, whispering to him about a kind of peace that would stop his pain.

But not the pain of others.

It was that one truth that Rick couldn't escape. As always, it was the thought of his children which dragged Rick back from the abyss. Something bigger than himself and his own struggles, two people who deserved to be fought for. Carl and Judith were his reason to fight off the all perversive thought of relief through simply letting go and letting his fears overcome him utterly. It was that fear Rick was trying to push down now as he looked for his son. The fear that threatened to paralyse and overwhelm. Carl was going to be alright. Rick kept repeating the mantra in his head because to think of anything else would have broken him in two on the spot.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl burst through the line of trees which surrounded the prison, making a break for the front gates. Any last hope that he'd somehow managed to get ahead of Merle was lost when he saw no one was on duty at the front gate. That never happened. Daryl felt sick, his stomach threatening to throw up the last meagre remnants of his meal last night as fear gripped him. He swallowed it down, managing to outrun the Walkers wandering about, despite the burning in his legs and lungs. Daryl got to the gate and shoved his fingers through the wire links, shaking it violently. "Hey!" he yelled out, hoping to get someone's attention. "HEY! OVER HERE!" Daryl looked over and saw Rick halfway through the field, running towards him. The sound of Walkers coming up behind him had Daryl swinging around and putting an arrow deep into the woman's skull. She collapsed backwards as Daryl rushed over to her and retrieved his arrow, ramming it into the eye of other Walker who was intent on attacking him.

"Daryl, quick!"

Rick's urgent call had Daryl spinning back around and running towards the gate the other man was holding open for him. Daryl slipped inside the prison grounds as Rick quickly re-locked the gates. "Why wasn't there anyone on duty here?" he rasped, trying to catch his breath.

Rick turned around to face him, both men ignoring the Walkers on the other side of the fence who had been drawn by the commotion. "You tell me, Daryl," he bit out. "Where's Merle?"

Daryl's stomach turned over again, feeling the bile rise to the back of his throat. "He gave me the slip," said Daryl tightly, feeling the self-loathing well up in him even as he said the words aloud.

Rick's face darkened. "We can't find Carl and Carol."

Daryl felt the earth tilt a little under his feet as he struggled to show no emotion. "How long they been missin' for?"

"We don't know." Rick's tone bristled with frustration. "What's Merle doin', Daryl?"

Daryl looked away, lips showing his internal struggle without him knowing it as they tightened and loosened furiously. A muscle jerked in his cheek. "I'm gonna find 'em." Daryl turned around, intent on beginning the hunt straight away but Rick grabbed his arm.

"I'm comin' with you."

Daryl shook his hand off. "Then come," he snapped.

"I need to tell the others," ground out Rick. "Get my rifle and some water."

Daryl ground his teeth in irritation, but couldn't argue.

"Come with me," Rick instructed him. "I got more questions." He turned and headed back to the prison.

"Yeah, well, I ain't got no answers," muttered Daryl as he followed him.

They covered the distance in silence and then Rick was walking into the sleeping quarters ahead of him.

"Did you find them?

"Should we start looking around the prison?"

"Daryl!"

Beth's gasp of surprise was followed by the young blonde woman impulsively running up to him and hugging him tightly. Daryl stiffened at the familiarity but Beth was already stepping away before he could comment. "Are you alright?" she asked quickly. "What happened? Do you know where Carol and Carl are?"

"Merle's got 'em," said Rick tightly.

Glenn's reaction was immediate. "Son of a bitch!"

Rick was in cop mode. "Axel, when exactly did you see Carol leave to go and relieve Carl?"

Axel looked as worried as everyone else was now. "I'm not exactly sure, at least three hours ago, probably four."

"Okay," said Rick quickly, "worst case scenario, that gives them a four hour head start on us and Merle is gonna be forced to move slower with Carl and Carol to manage."

"We should be able to catch them up," said Glenn, already going to collect his gun and knife.

Rick held up a staying hand to him. "You don't need to come, Glenn. Daryl and I can handle this."

"I'm coming," said Glenn stubbornly. "There is no point arguing about it."

Daryl tried to hide his displeasure. These two were only going to slow him down. He needed to face his brother one on one. They didn't need no audience.

Maggie was looking at Daryl. "Do you know what your brother is plannin' on doin' to them?" she asked in distress. "What happened between you two?"

"That's a good question," said Rick sharply, turning his attention to Daryl. "What set Merle off this time?"

"I don't know," said Daryl truthfully, his own words making him want to hit something. He'd been wracking his brains trying to work out what he might have said last night to cause Merle to abandon him and come back to the prison but was coming up blank.

"Somethin' must have happened," argued Rick, not letting it go. "Otherwise why would Merle come back here?"

"I don't know, okay?" said Daryl, his voice starting to get louder with his own aggravation. "We were drinkin' last night and everything was fine and-"

"You got drunk?" repeated Rick in disbelief, starting to shout now too. "You were idiot enough to let yourself get drunk with Merle? Shit, Daryl, do you even remember what you coulda said to him?"

Daryl glared at him. He didn't need to be reminded that he'd made a mistake others folks were paying for. "I was tryin' to get his trust," he barked out.

"And that worked out just great, didn't it?" snapped Rick, face flushing in anger as he stepped up to face him. "You clearly let somethin' slip that set Merle off and now look what's happened! You were meant to be protectin' the group, not puttin' it in more danger!"

Daryl bristled, hand balling into a fist as Rick gave him a target for his own self-anger. Rick was right and Daryl hated them both in that instant.

"Now then," said Hershel as he stepped between the two of them before things could get any more heated, "ain't no point to all this fussin'. It's a waste of time and energy. For all we know, this was Merle's intent all along. Ain't no good speculatin' on things we don't have all the facts to."

Rick dropped his head, shoulders sagging as Hershel's calm reason seemed to take the fight out of him. "You're right." He looked away for a moment and then back to catch Daryl's gaze. "I'm sorry. There was no need for me to fly off the handle like that."

"You're worried 'bout your boy," said Daryl gruffly. "You got every right." He looked away, body still wound up tight because despite Hershel's reassurance, Daryl knew this was all down to him.

Hershel seemed to know what he was thinking as he laid a fatherly hand on Daryl's shoulder. "This ain't your fault, Daryl," he said firmly. "Merle made his own choices in all of this. You ain't your brother's keeper."

Daryl's lips thinned. "Yeah I am," he rasped, hand going to the crossbow sling over his shoulder as he headed towards the door. "Always have been." Daryl didn't wait to see who was following him, he just needed to get moving to fix this.

Before it was too late.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol and Carl walked side by side ahead of Merle, their hands tied in front of them with phone cables with Merle holding onto the other ends. They'd been walking for at least a couple of hours now.

"So, Merle," said Carol calmly, "you actually got a plan or are you just making this up as you go along?"

"You tryin' to size old Merle up, sassy mouth?" he taunted her. "You tell me. Which do you think is worse? Me havin' a plan or me flyin' by the seat of my pants. "

"I'm confident you can make either scenario end badly," said Carol dryly.

Merle gave a snort of laughter. "You always been this funny or is this a recently developed skill, missy?"

"I guess you just bring out my lighter side, Merle," she deadpanned. Carol looked back over her shoulder at him. "You haven't answered my question."

And it was a good question at that. Truth was, Merle hadn't exactly settled on a plan until he ran up and saw Carol and Carl standing there at the gate. It was like God or whoever the fuck was in charge nowadays, had given him their little stamp of approval that what he was doing was meant to be. Carol and Carl, the two people that would be the best ones for Merle to make his point, it was like it was pre-ordained or something. "Let's just say that our destinies have collided like it was written in the stars," said Merle coolly, "and leave it at that."

"And that tells me exactly nothing," said Carol flatly.

"Except that he's crazy," sniped Carl as he trudged along.

Merle tugged on Carl's lead and made him stumble a little. "You watch your mouth, boy. I ain't 'bout to take any of your shit."

"Bite me," growled Carl, throwing a death look over his shoulder at Merle.

Merle couldn't help but laugh at how ferocious the kid's glare was. You could strip paint with it. "I ain't the one you need to worry 'bout when it comes to bitin', kid." He casually raised Carl's gun and pointed it above the teenager's head and blew the brain out of a Walker which had just appeared in front of them. The Walker dropped like a stone and the three of them didn't even break their stride. Merle nodded in approval at the silencer on the end of Carl's gun. "That's a handy gadget to be havin', that's for sure."

"Glad you like it," snarled Carl, "I'm gonna be killin' you with it later."

Merle's lips quirked. "Well, ain't you full of piss and vinegar, short stuff? I thought you and me were friends." He half-smiled. "Trust me, kid, a lotta bastards, bigger and meaner than you have tried to kill me and I'm still here. I lead a charmed life. So you best hold your tongue while you still got one to take hold of."

"Carl has nothing to do with all of this," said Carol sharply. "Let him go. I'm all you need."

"You're wrong, Carl has everythin' to do with this," returned Merle. "His old man owes me."

"What, a child for a hand?" The derision was obvious in Carol's voice. "It's not the same thing, trust me."

"The wronged party gets to decide what's fair and equal," shot back Merle bitterly.

Carol stopped walking and turned around to face him. Carl was forced to stop walking as well and he turned around as Carol faced off against Merle. "This isn't just about your hand, is it, Merle? Rick took something much more precious to you away from you on that roof, didn't he? Otherwise you woulda settled just for beating in his face."

"If you're talkin' 'bout Daryl-"

"No, not Daryl. I'm talkin' about Rick takin' away the illusion you built up around yourself that you were always the one in control of every situation."

Merle's jaw hardened. "Missy, you don't know shit."

Carol took a step closer to him, her blue gaze intent on his as she spoke with growing certainty. "I know what you grew up with, Merle, Daryl has told me the stories. The only way you could protect yourself was to build a world around you where you always called the shots. Then Rick comes in and takes that away from you and suddenly you're the same scared kid you used to be, at the mercy of someone else and you hated him for that."

Merle's grip tightened on the gun in his hand. He hadn't expected this. How dare this woman take one look at him and think she knew him? Merle Dixon wasn't about to be read like some book. "Nice attempt at Dr Philin' me, sugar tits," he drawled, "but you don't know jack 'bout jack."

"Prove me wrong." Carol's chin came up, eyes flaring. "Let Carl go. Prove to me you didn't feel like Rick cut off your dick rather than your hand, up there on that roof."

Merle lost control as her words cut him to the bone. His hand snapped back and he hit Carol in the face with the gun he was holding. She gasped in pain and almost fell to her knees, but managed to catch herself and stay upright.

"Carol!" cried out Carl in distress. He lunged at Merle. "You son of a bitch!"

Merle quickly took a step back and levelled the gun at Carl's head. "Stay where you are," he ground out, angry at himself for losing control like that. The boy shot daggers at him, but stayed where he was. Merle looked over at Carol who was shaking her head and looking a little dazed. A trickle of blood escaped the side of her mouth and made Merle feel bad but he had to get this situation back under control. "No more talkin'," he ordered them harshly. "You walk when I tell you to walk and stop when I tell you to stop. I'm in control here!"

Carol's expression as she looked at him was one of silent vindication as the words slipped out of Merle's mouth before he could censure them. He put his face in hers, noses almost touching. "You don't know me," said Merle, voice low and full of warning."

Carol didn't flinch. "Do you?" With that little jab delivered, Carol turned around and started walking, Carl falling in step with her.

Merle followed them, still holding onto the leads which held them prisoner and suddenly had to wonder who was feeling more trapped in that moment...


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N****: Long, emotionally complicated chapter with this one, guys. Brace yourselves accordingly. LOL **

**I started this story with Carol facing the echoes of her past. Now we're at the stage of Daryl having to face his. There is no more running from the truth of who Merle is anymore and Daryl is facing that. I'm not sure what you'll make of this chapter, whether you'll find it boring or not, but I felt it necessary to fill in more of Daryl and Merle's history to make sense of where they are now. **

**It's all coming to a head now and it's going to get messy, no two ways about that. **

**See what you make of this chapter and I'll get started on the next one, okay? :D I really hope I can manage to convey all that I want with this one – fingers crossed, I guess. **

**Chapter Thirty Seven**

"You can have peace. Or you can have freedom.

Don't ever count on having both at once."  
_Robert A. Heinlein_

Rick's eyes were on Daryl's back as the other man deftly followed Merle, Carol and Carl's tracks through the woods. They made for distinctive tracks to follow and Rick hoped they were making good time. He glanced up at the sky just as a fat water droplet hit his cheek. The storm which had been threatening for days was almost on them. Rick's expression tightened as he knew once the rain came, it was going to be harder to track Merle's path. I fresh wave of frustration came over Rick as he tried to come to terms with the fact he'd been unable to keep the group safe. He spoke to Daryl's back. "Did Merle tell you anythin' 'bout another group?"

Daryl didn't turn around, just kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, gaze sweeping back and forth as he tracked. "There's a place called Woodbury, run by some guy called the Governor. Merle's been holed up there for most of the time."

Rick's heart sank at that news even as Glenn piped up with questions of his own. "A town?" he said in disbelief. "A whole town?"

"Merle said there were 'bout seventy or so folk there, mix of men, women and children."

"How far away?" asked Rick intently.

Daryl rolled his shoulders. "Dunno, probably 'bout three hours on foot from the prison, I'm guessin', give or take. Merle didn't give me no map."

"That's not far," said Glenn, sounding nervous. "I'm surprised we haven't run in to any of them yet."

"Guess we just got lucky," said Daryl flatly.

Rick's jaw hardened. "And maybe we can stay that way if we get to Merle first."

Daryl jumped over a log, still not turning around to talk to them. "Merle ain't takin' them to Woodbury."

Glenn and Rick followed Daryl over the log. "What makes you so sure?" asked Rick curiously. "Do you think this Governor would try and stop Merle?"

"The guy made Merle his second in charge," said Daryl coolly. "I don't reckon he's stricken with too big of a moral compass somehow."

That wasn't good news for Rick. Anyone who had no hesitation of putting Merle in charge of others had to know what they were unleashing. Merle never pretended to be anything other than what he was. For this Governor to do such a thing, it meant he had need of a blunt object to hammer his point home and Merle was that blunt instrument. "Then what makes you so sure Merle's not headin' to Woodbury?"

"I know my brother," said Daryl simply, coming to a stop. "Merle's makin' a point and he don't want a whole mess of other people gettin' in the way of that." He walked over to where a Walker lay stretched out on the ground by a row of trees, the back of his head blown out.

Rick joined him, looking down at the defunct creature. "This was done by a handgun." He immediately thought of Carl. Rick glanced over at Daryl, who'd turned around and back tracked a little, eyes on the ground.

Glenn came to stand by Rick. "At least we know we're going the right way."

Rick looked the Walker over. "This guy hasn't been dead more than a couple of hours or so. The ants haven't even made a start on him." He saw Daryl was now crouched over on the ground, examining it closely. Rick walked up to him. "What is it?"

"They stopped here," said Daryl, reading the scuffed imprints in the dirt. "They musta been talkin'." His eyes ran back and forth over the ground and Rick saw Daryl suddenly tense.

"What is it?"

Daryl reached out and picked up a leaf from the ground. Rick frowned, not knowing what he was looking at.

Daryl's face was unreadable. "Blood." He held up the leaf for the others to see. "There's blood on this leaf."

Both Glenn and Rick stepped closer. It was only a single drop of bright red blood on the brown leaf, but it was enough to have Rick clenching his fists.

"It's only a tiny bit, no one can be hurt that bad," said Glenn, his words not managing to belay the worry behind them, "right?"

Rick didn't want to think about an answer to that. Daryl stood up abruptly and threw away the leaf.

When Rick spoke, his voice was hard and brooked no argument. "When we find Merle-"

"What's gotta be done, gotta be done," Daryl interrupted him sharply and then he was stalking off, leading them on the hunt again.

Rick followed, with Glenn bringing up the rear. He knew how hard this was for Daryl, but the man had to understand that Merle had forced all of their hands. The older Dixon brother had set something in motion that meant no more second chances or benefits of the doubt. Daryl was going to have to have to face the fact Merle was what he was and deal with it, once and for all.

And if he couldn't, then Rick was going to do it for him.

**oooOOOOooo**

_Daryl flicked his lighter but no flame popped up. He shook it and tried again, still nothing. Suddenly a hand was putting a lighter with a dancing flame in front of his face. Daryl glanced at the man who was offering him a light and then moved the cigarette dangling from his lips up into the glow of the flame. He sucked in that first puff of smoke. "Thanks," he told the man, the single word accompanied by a whoosh of smoke from his mouth. _

"_No problem," rumbled the good Samaritan, deep voice suiting the way the black man with broad shoulders and shaved head looked. _

_Daryl's eyes flicked around the noisy bar which was mainly filled with men as he took a deep drag of his cigarette and leaned back against the wall, crossing one leg over the other. Rednecks and bikers as far as the eye could see. Merle was in his element. Daryl's brother was at the bar, being loud and obnoxious which was why Daryl had taken himself off to stand by one of the windows, on the outside looking in. Just how he liked it. Merle had taken a hit of some shit before he'd even walked into the bar and was already all twitchy before he ordered his first shot of whisky. Daryl knew how this night was going to turn out. His only hope for a quiet night was that Merle was going to pass out at some point. Unfortunately, his brother rarely passed out. Daryl picked up his half-drunk bottle of beer and tried to hide his displeasure at the scene unfolding in front of him. _

"_Ain't seen you 'round these parts before," commented the black man, who was leaning on the wall next to Daryl, having a quiet smoke of his own. _

"_Just passin' through," said Daryl vaguely. They were always passing through. He and Merle could never stay anywhere long. The elder Dixon brother made sure of that. _

"_Saw you and that other guy roll up on those Triumphs." _

"_Yeah." _

"_I restored a Triumph once, shit, those engines." _

_Daryl inclined his head. "Yeah, Merle worked on his for nearly a year until he got it right." _

"_Satisfyin' though, workin' out the kinks." _

_Daryl's gaze drifted over to Merle who seemed to be in some kind of drinking competition at the bar now. "Merle ain't never satisfied." _

"_Some folks never are," agreed the man sagely. He glanced over at Daryl. "Lamont," offered up the man, by way of introduction._

"_Daryl." _

_They inclined heads, acknowledging each other in that unspoken way that didn't need a lot of fancy words. _

"_Where you two headin' after this?" _

_Daryl shrugged. "Dunno, that's up to Merle, I guess." _

_Lamont arched an eyebrow. "You don't get an opinion?" _

"_I don't got one," said Daryl coolly. "Ain't the same thing."_

"_No," agreed Lamont, side eyeing him, "I suppose it ain't." _

_There was a loud cheer from the bar which caught both of their attention. Merle was triumphantly upending an empty shot glass, a huge grin plastered on his face. "How you like that, boy?" he crowed. _

_The heavy set black man standing at the bar beside him just gave him a disdainful look and downed his own shot glass of whiskey and slammed it down on the bar to an even louder cheer. "You want to keep on tryin' to keep up, old man?" he smirked. "Or do you just want someone to tuck you into bed all safe and sound?" _

"_Your momma still doin' that?" threw back Merle sweetly and there was raucous laughter, even though Merle's competition didn't look impressed. _

_Daryl grimaced and looked away. This was going to end badly. There always came a point in the night where a line was drawn and Merle didn't just cross that line, he took great delight on having an entire hoedown on it. Daryl's eyes slid around the room, checking for exits. _

"_That brother of yours seems to like to live dangerously," commented Lamont dryly. "Elwood ain't known for his sense of humour." _

"_Yeah," Daryl muttered. "Merle's got real talent like that." He could feel Lamont's curious gaze on him. _

"_You sure you two are brothers?" _

_Daryl gave a humourless smile. "That's what our old lady tells us." _

_Lamont nodded his head slowly. "So, you know anythin' 'bout engines, or is just your brother?" _

"_I know my way round a motor." _

"_I own a garage in town, nuthin' fancy, been lookin' for a mechanic who doesn't have his head up his ass." Lamont pulled a wry face. "They're harder to come by than you'd think round here." _

_Daryl frowned. "You offerin' me a job?" _

_Lamont inclined his head. "If you're lookin'." _

"_You don't know me from shit," pointed out Daryl, trying to hide his surprise. "How do you know I ain't got my head up my ass?" _

_Lamont looked over to where Merle was jeering at some of the spectators. "Recto-cranial inversion only tends to occur in one sibling, not both," he said with wry amusement. "Nature's got a way of balancin' these things out." _

_Daryl tried not to smile at the other man's dig at Merle. _

"_Besides, I used to be a sniper in the Marines," continued on Lamont affably. "I'm good at sizin' people up quick like." _

"_You were in the Marines?" Daryl looked at the still physically fit man over and could see that. _

"_Yeah, pensioned out when I took a piss in what turned out to be a minefield one night." Lamont bent down and rapped his knuckles on his left leg and there was a hollow sound. He lifted up his pants legs to reveal a prosthetic leg. _

_Daryl took in the old fashioned wooden leg. "That's old school, man." _

"_Yeah, I couldn't get that titanium shit to sit right on me, so I just ended up going back to the old kind of fake legs." _

"_That's a real bitch," commented Daryl._

_Lamont rolled his shoulders in a shrug. "Yeah, I know, but on the up side, I've always got wood." _

_The two men caught each other's eyes and they both grinned before laughing out loud. Daryl couldn't help but relax a little in the other man's genial company. _

"_So, you interested?" _

_Daryl cast an uncertain look over at Merle. "I dunno, maybe." _

"_Yeah, well, I reckon you two ain't goin' anywhere tonight by the way your brother is knockin' back those shots." _

_Daryl grimaced as he looked back over to Merle where the drinking competition was getting rowdier by the minute. _

"_You fixed for a place to stay tonight?" Lamont quizzed him. "Your brother is gonna need some place to sleep that all off."_

_"We're bunkin' at that hotel just off the highway. The one with the spinning dice on the sign." _

_Lamont gave a short nod. "The Lucky Dice. It's a shit hole. They should pay you for sleepin' there." _

"_I've slept worse places," said Daryl philosophically. _

"_Just don't eat the complimentary breakfast. Go out and slam your nuts in a door, it'll be more enjoyable and less likely to leave you with permanent physical damage." _

_Daryl's lips quirked. "How can you fuck up scrambled eggs?" _

"_Raw talent and generalised hatred of people and any form of sanitation," said Lamont sardonically. _

_Suddenly there was the sound of smashing glass coming from the bar and Daryl's head snapped up, body tensing. _

_Merle was one his feet, facing off against the looming Elwood, not fazed in the least by the larger man. "Guess you don't know how to lose graceful like," he taunted the other man. "Suppose I shouldna expected much more from no nigger." _

_Daryl's face flushed red as Merle's innate racism raised its ugly head. He couldn't look at Lamont, too embarrassed on his brother's behalf and wishing he could crawl away from all of Merle's ignorance. He hated it when Merle did this shit. Lamont had straightened up too and Daryl could feel the other man stiffening beside him. _

"_What did you just call me?" asked an outraged Elwood. His crew were lining up behind him, angry looking black men, glaring death at Merle. Meanwhile, Merle had his own supporters, mostly bikers forgetting about their drinking and amassing behind Daryl's brother. _

_The bartended had a right to be looking as worried as he did. The hapless man held up a hand. "Now then, boys, why don't we all just take a breath and be smart 'bout this?" He may as well have said nothing for all the attention they gave him. _

_Merle had to keep poking the bear, holding Elwood's gaze unflinchingly. "You inbred too, boy? Your parents brother and sister so your hearin' didn't come out right? I heard you sambos like to keep it in the family. Guess I know for sure now-" Merle didn't get to finish his sentence as Elwood launched himself at him, tackling Merle to the ground. It was all the bar needed to erupt into all out war. _

"_Fuck," ground out Daryl as the inevitable happened. He did what he had to do and ran into the sea of writhing bodies to help his brother. _

_Merle was on his feet, trading blows with Elwood, the two men quickly bloodying each other up while both sides tried to tear each other apart. Fists, bottles and furniture were flying all over the place as Daryl fought his way through the throng of warring men to get to his brother. He didn't know where Lamont was now, probably wanting to put as much distance between himself and the ignorant rednecks and Daryl couldn't blame him. Merle was more than holding his own against Elwood and all other comers as he watched Merle crack a pool cue over some kid's head and dropped him like a stone. Both Merle and Elwood were bloodied and beaten but refusing to give up as they made a beeline for each other again. Daryl put himself between Merle and his opponent. "We're leavin'!" he yelled over the din of the bar brawl._

"_But the party's just gettin' started, bro," slurred Merle, drunken grin plastered all over his bruised and bleeding face. _

_Elwood made a grab for Merle but Daryl jerked his elbow back, catching the other man up under his chin and causing him to crash to the ground. This didn't go down well with his crew, who now had two targets in sight. With a lot of effort and even more throwing of punches, Daryl somehow managed to drag Merle out of the bar which had dissolved into an out and out drunken bar brawl. They stumbled out a side door into the balmy night air, Merle barely managing to walk by this stage. _

"_Whooee, little brother," he crowed as he leaned heavily on Daryl, arm around his neck, "we showed 'em, didn't we?"_

"_Yeah," said Daryl in annoyance as he half carried Merle away from the bar, "we did." He glanced back over his shoulder to the door back into the door, worried that any minute now someone was going to chase them outside and the brawl would start up in the street next. Daryl scowled as he dragged Merle towards his bike. It was going to be hell getting his drunk, high and vaguely concussed brother onto the back of his bike but he had to try. "Come on," he ground out as Merle didn't offer much help, "we gotta get outta here." _

"_I want-want another drink," babbled Merle. "I ain't done drinkin' yet." _

"_You're done," said Daryl darkly as he tried to get them to his bike as fast as he can. He was halfway there when a pickup truck pulled up in front of them, blocking their escape route to the bike. Daryl tensed, ready to fight both his and Merle's way out of this latest development when a familiar face popped itself out of the driver's window. _

"_You two best better haul your butts on board before someone notices you're gone."_

_Daryl felt a wave of relief at seeing Lamont and hearing his offer of help. He tugged on Merle to get him around to the passenger's side. "Come on," he urged his brother, "we got us a ride." _

"_I'm drivin'!" announced a drunken Merle. _

"_Sure you are, boy," said Lamont mockingly as he grabbed Merle by the scruff of his shirt and helped Daryl haul him into the front seat of the pickup where Merle promptly passed out. _

_Daryl scrambled in after him and slammed the door shut as Lamont peeled out of the bar parking lot. "Thanks," he said unevenly, looking in the rear vision mirror to check no one was following them. _

"_I was done drinkin' for the night," said Lamont easily. "The ambience of that place can wear a little thin after a bit." _

"_Especially with dumb as shit rednecks makin' a nuisance of themselves." Daryl cast a dark, angry look at the uncaring Merle who was happily unconscious. _

"_Yeah, well, you don't go to a place called 'Blood, Sweat and Beers' and expect to move up the social ladder none." _

"_More likely to smash that ladder over someone's head," Daryl muttered. _

_Lamont laughed. "Or up someone's ass." _

_Daryl actually smiled at that and it wasn't long before Lamont was pulling up at the roach motel that he and Merle were staying at. _

_Lamont watched as Daryl jumped out of the car and went to pull Merle out. "You need a hand?" _

_Daryl managed to throw Merle over his shoulder and straighten up. "Nah, I got it. Plenty of practice." _

"_So I see." _

_Daryl managed an embarrassed smile. "Ah, thanks for your help," he said stiffly. _

"_No problem, man." _

_Daryl didn't know why Lamont had helped them out and long after he'd thrown Merle down onto his bed to let him sleep it off, and gone for a walk, he still didn't know. The next morning Merle was an unmoving lump stinking of whiskey and smoke on the bed as Daryl walked out the front of their hotel room for a smoke. As he lit up his first cigarette of the day and ignored the torn and bloodied skin on his knuckles, Lamont pulled up in his pickup. In the back of the car were Merle and Daryl's bikes. Daryl's eyes widened with surprise as he walked out to greet Lamont. "You brought us our bikes?" _

_Lamont climbed out of the car and walked around to the tray at the back to where the bikes were tied down. "It's a bit of a walk back to the bar and I don't reckon it's a good idea for either of you to be showin' your faces round there at the moment. Elwood and his boys are still out for blood." He glanced over Daryl's shoulder back at the room. "Sleepin' beauty still waitin' for his prince to come?" _

_Daryl gave a grunt. "What shits me is he ain't even gonna have much of a hangover from all of this." _

"_His face ain't gonna feel like a whole lot of fun though," commented Lamont as he helped Daryl unload the bikes. "Elwood got in more than a couple of good punches." _

"_Merle woulda done worse." It was just how his brother was. _

"_Yeah," said Lamont quietly as he closed up the tray of his pickup. "That kid your brother took the pool cue to, his name was Farley, just turned twenty one. He ended up in hospital. Got himself some brain damage. Doctors don't reckon he's gonna be able to walk right again." _

_Daryl looked away, not wanting to hear that. _

"_It's a real shame. Farley had just been accepted into the army. He was real excited, lookin' to see the world. Guess that ain't gonna happen now." _

_Daryl forced his eyes up to meet Lamont's steady gaze but then couldn't hold it and he went back to staring at the dirt. _

_Lamont leaned against his pickup, voice calm. "What are you doin' here, Daryl?" _

_Daryl looked up and frowned. "What do you mean?" _

_Lamont jerked his head to one side to indicate the hotel room behind him. "That brother of yours, he's no good." _

_Daryl's expression darkened. "He's my brother." _

"_You want the truth of it," said Lamont steadily. "What he is, is a rabid dog, lashin' out at everythin' and everyone." _

_Daryl stiffened at the analogy, jaw hardening. _

"_The kindest thing you can do for a creature like that is to put it down." _

_Daryl's eyes narrowed menacingly. "You suggestin' I kill my brother? What kind of messed up shit is that?" _

"_I ain't sayin' kill him," said Lamont mildly. _

"_Then what are you sayin'?" asked Daryl angrily. _

"_I'm sayin' stop pretendin' that you can save him." _

_Lamont's words cut through Daryl hard. "You don't know shit about Merle and me." _

"_I know what I see," said Lamont simply. "I like you, Daryl. I think you're more than livin' like this. Merle is just holdin' you back. You keep thinkin' there is gonna be some cure for him, but there ain't. Merle is Merle, a blind man can see that. He's always gonna be this rabid dog, foamin' at the mouth and you pretendin' otherwise ain't helpin' anyone, least of all your brother." _

_Daryl didn't know what to say to that. "Merle's my brother. We're kin." _

_Lamont's expression was sober. "Then be his brother and put him outta his misery before he puts you outta yours. Get on that bike and drive away and don't look back."_

_A part of Daryl wanted to do just that but even before he spoke, Daryl knew that wasn't going to happen. "I can't," he said hoarsely. "We have to stick together. Brother's stick together." Merle's mantra was seared into his soul. _

_Lamont's look was quietly sympathetic. "Your brother ain't lookin' to be saved, Daryl. One day you're gonna have to deal with that reality, whether you like it or not." _

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl shook his head, dispelling the unwelcome memory of a conversation from a different world and a stranger who had wanted to spare him from the future he could see for Daryl. He and Merle had packed up and driven out of that town later on the same day but Daryl had never been able to forget Lamont's words to him, no matter how hard he tried. They'd lingered in the back of his brain, like the threat of a prophecy waiting to be fulfilled and that wait was over now. The world had changed, but Merle hadn't. Daryl hadn't wanted to face what his brother was back then, hell, he didn't want to now, but there was no choice. Daryl would die protecting Merle from other people without hesitation, but from Merle himself, there was no way to protect his brother from his own self-destructive tendencies. Never had been truth be told. Lamont had been right all along, just as Daryl had feared and refused to believe at the time. Some cold drops of rain hit his back and Daryl looked to the heavens, taking in the way the clouds were so low and heavy and that ominous black/green colour. "The rains ahead of us," he said shortly.

"That's going to wash out the tracks," fretted Glenn. He looked at Daryl for confirmation. "Right?"

"It don't matter," said Daryl tersely. "I know where Merle's headin'." At least he was pretty sure.

"Then we'd best get movin'," said Rick quickly. "Before all hell breaks loose."

Daryl didn't know if Rick was talking about the weather or what Merle was up to but it didn't matter, either way they had to get ahead of this thing. It was time to finally be free of Merle and the hold he had over him but the thought wasn't a welcome one. Instead a deep grief settled on Daryl as he grimly accepted he wasn't hunting for his brother anymore, but rather that rabid dog. It was time to do what he had to do and set them all free.

This moment had been coming all of their lives.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol eyed Merle suspiciously as he tore a piece out of his shirt. "Is this it?" she looked around the cave they were in. She and Carl were tied up with their hands behind their backs and propped up against the back wall of the cave. "Your big plan was to take us back to your lair?" Carol looked over at the remains of a fire and the bottle half full of clear liquid sitting by it. It was obvious Merle had been here before and maybe even Daryl. The remains of the fire looked fresh.

Merle gave a snort of amusement. "You make me sound like a super villain with that lair shit."

"I wouldn't call you super," sniped Carol. "Mediocre at best."

Merle grabbed the bottle of what Carol assumed was alcohol. "But I am the villain of the piece. That's what you're sayin', right?"

"You kidnapped us and hit Carol," snapped Carl, joining in on the discussion now. "You're not the hero, Merle."

Merle soaked the torn off piece of his shirt with the liquid from the bottle and shrugged, seemingly unconcerned by the criticism. "Maybe I'm just misunderstood."

"Or maybe you're understood completely," she threw back.

Merle crouched down beside Carol. "You think you got me worked out, woman? Is that what you're sayin'?" He lifted his hand with the cloth to her mouth and Carol jerked her head back.

"Leave her alone!" yelled Carl, kicking out at him.

Merle easily avoided the attack. "Settle down, boy. I'm just cleanin' Carol up." He looked back at her and arched an eyebrow as he held up the damp cloth. "Don't need you smellin' of blood when we head back out there." Merle reached out and carefully wiped away at the trail of blood staining Carol's lips and chin. The smell of strong liquor assailed Carol senses as she let Merle clean her up. Merle was intent on the task at hand. "I don't hold with hittin' women," he informed her. "Not as a rule anyways."

"Not unless they really deserve it," said Carol coolly. "Isn't that normally how it goes?"

"I lost control," said Merle simply. "I ain't proud of it."

"And that's your biggest problem, Merle." Carol caught his gaze and held it unblinkingly now that they were in such close proximity. "Thinkin' you had any kind of control in the beginnin'."

"I got more than anyone else right now," he shot back. "You're all dancin' to my tune now, missy."

"You're a manipulator," Carol accused him roundly. "It's not the same thing."

Merle was unbothered. "I prefer the term, 'outcome engineer'," he countered straight-faced as he finished cleaning her up and sat back against the opposite wall.

Carol rolled her eyes. "Of course you do. You know, for a man who prides himself on tellin' things how they are, you sure do tell yourself a whole lot of crap. You hide behind terms and justifications that serve your own purpose."

"Well, shit," drawled Merle, "don't everyone?" He scratched at his chest absently. "But I can tell you this, I ain't gonna miss one wink of sleep over how this is gonna turn out cause I'm in the right with all of this."

"A clear and peaceful conscience, that's you, is it, Merle?" Carol looked around at the cave. "Seems to me like you're havin' that peaceful sleep in a prison of your own makin'. You know you've set up a bad situation here. You've put Daryl in a real bad place and you're tellin' me you're okay with that?"

"We're brothers," offered up Merle. "We're bound together tighter than anythin' you can imagine. It's what gonna save us all in the end. Daryl is gonna do the right thing by me, just like I'm gonna do the right thing by him. It's in our blood. "

Carol and Carl exchanged confused looks and then she was back to talking to Merle. "Is any of that garbled rhetoric and chest thumping meant to make sense to us?"

"You wouldn't understand," said Merle dismissively. "You don't share what me and Daryl share and never will."

"You think of yourself first and the Daryl second and you want me to stand in awe of your great brotherly love?" Carol said sharply. "That ain't gonna happen, Merle."

Merle scowled. "I'm gettin' tired of you thinkin' you know somethin' I don't."

"Your whole life you've checked out with drugs and alcohol or just plain runnin'," said Carol, not backing down. "This is the first time you haven't had those things to take the edge off of thinkin' 'bout who you really are and the consequences of your actions." She nodded at the bottle sitting beside Merle's knee. "You finish that bottle of hooch and then you're on your own, Merle. Who you really are is gonna come home and roost and there is gonna be nuthin' to filter it out for you. You've never had to deal with your choices before now. You made yourself believe in your justifications for your actions and never once thought about how it impacted on the one person in this world who loves you the most."

"Shut up," growled Merle. "Shut the fuck up."

"I can stop talkin'," said Carol undaunted, "but that ain't gonna change the truth. You say you're in the right with all of this, just who are you tryin' to convince?"

"I'm fightin' for my brother," bit out Merle. "That's love."

"That's fear," she countered.

Merle gave a disdainful snort. "I ain't afraid."

"If you weren't afraid, then Carl and me wouldn't be sitting here."

Merle ground his teeth together at Carol's relentless comebacks. Her yapping was giving him a headache. "You spent the last decade linin' up to have a man punch the shit out of you on a regular basis," said Merle snidely. "Why should I be listenin' to a thing you say?"

Carol's expression was deadly serious as she answered him, her voice quiet but full of conviction. "Because I know what it's like to be hurt over and over again by the one person who claims to love you the most in the world and is meant to keep you safe." Carol took a deep breath. "And then think it's your fault." Her chin came up in defiance. "It took me a long time to see the truth, Merle, but now I do, it's all I can see and I can't pretend otherwise."

Merle stared at Carol, seeing the hard won, unflinching strength in the woman's eyes. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel the fear he'd been fighting so hard to outrun all these years. "No more talkin'," he said hoarsely. "We're done talkin'." Merle turned away to look out at the entrance of the cave but he could still feel Carol's eyes on him, even as he studiously ignored her and her chilling insight...


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N****: Man, I thought I'd never get this chapter done. It damn near killed me! **

**I had a huge amount of emotional murkiness to investigate and it's taken a lot out of me to be honest. And I've still got more to go. Argghh! **

**Anyways, I hope people aren't getting frustrated with the lack of Caryl in the story right now. I promise it won't be long now until that changes. ;) **

**I covered a lot of concepts in this chapter and I really hope I haven't confused you all with all of this character dissection. I guess there is no way to tell except to stop talking and let you read and make up your own mind. **

**Hopefully the next chapter won't attempt to kill me and I'll get it to you sooner than this one. **

**Thanks for reading, guys. We're getting there – promise. ;) **

**Chapter Thirty Eight**

"Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect."

_Margaret Mitchell_

_Merle stormed out of the house, a backpack slung over one shoulder and no other possessions. He didn't want anything else from that miserable son of a bitch. He'd had enough. Merle couldn't stand to be around the prick any longer. He had to get away before he killed the miserable drunk and the old bastard would be laughing from the grave as Merle sat in a jail cell, waiting to hang for it. _

"_Merle, wait!" _

_He ignored the plaintive cry of his eight year old brother, just continued to stalk towards his motorbike, intent on getting out of there before he had a murder conviction to add to his already impressive juvie record. Merle was at his bike, grabbing up a couple of tools when Daryl caught up with him. _

"_Don't go, Merle," Daryl pleaded with him, his young face streaked with dirty tears. _

_Merle grimaced to see how upset his little brother was. "I gotta," he said gruffly. "Me and him livin' under the same roof is a bad idea." _

"_I don't want to be here neither," said Daryl emotionally. "Take me with you." _

_Merle stopped tying up his back pack on the bike and sent him a vaguely apologetic look. "I can't, bro." _

_Daryl's eyes opened wide, his face flushed with high emotion. "I'll be good, I promise, Merle. I'll do everythin' you tell me. I won't be no bother, I swear." _

_Merle looked away abruptly, his eyes stinging with tears he refused to shed. This wasn't Daryl's fault and he hated the thought of hurting him like this, but there was no other way. Merle forced his emotions under control and looked back at Daryl's stricken face. "You're too little," he said tightly, "and besides, the law says you gotta be in school." _

"_I don't need no more learnin', Merle," Daryl argued with him. "Don't leave me here with him." His face clouded over. "He hates me." _

_Merle's jaw hardened as he thought of their father and the scars which littered his back, in particular the newest ones where the old man had just taken the buckle end of his belt to him. The violent, drunk bastard had raised his hand to Merle for the last time. "Don't take it personal, kid. That old bastard hates everyone." _

_Daryl's face was heartbreaking. "I don't wanna stay, Merle. Don't leave me behind." His voice wavered painfully. "Please." _

_Merle's hand tightened on the seat of his motorbike, trying to steel his resolve in the face of such abject fear. "I can't take you away from the old lady," he said hoarsely. "She needs you." _

"_Momma doesn't even know I'm alive half the time," said Daryl miserably. _

"_Yeah, but when she sobers up, she needs to know your around," said Merle doggedly. "You're her favourite. Always have been. She loves you." _

"_If she loves me, then why does she drink all the time?" asked Daryl raggedly. "Why don't she look after me like other momma's do?" _

_Merle pulled a face at that question. "Shit happens, little brother. For some people, that puts a fire in their belly and for others, well, they just curl up and wait to die." _

_Daryl made a distressed sound. "Momma's waitin' to die?" _

"_We all are, one way or the other," said Merle darkly. He looked his brother in the eye. "I can't stay, little brother and I can't take you with me. I'm lookin' to join the army or somethin' and you're too little to come with me." _

_Fresh tears filled Daryl's blue eyes. "Then who is gonna look after me?" he asked pitifully. _

"_You gotta look out for yourself, bro. Ain't no one else you can rely on." _

_Daryl's bottom lip wobbled. "Not even you?" _

_Merle gave a self-deprecating laugh. "'Specially not me, boy." He glanced over at the house, knowing their conversation was being watched by the piece of shit who called himself their daddy. "Look, just stay outta his way, okay, don't make no fuss and he'll leave you be." Merle moved his shoulders restlessly, finding it hard to look into Daryl's tear stained face. "And it'll be easier with me gone. The old bastard won't be so riled up all the time. You'll see, it's for the best." _

_Daryl grabbed hold of Merle's shirt tail and shook his head violently. "Please, Merle, don't leave me." _

_Merle grimaced at Daryl's heart-felt plea. "Time to man up, boy. Life is a piece of shit and you gotta be tough to get through it." He relented a little in the face of Daryl's obvious trauma. "I tell you what," he said gruffly, "I'll get myself settled and then I'll come get you." _

"_When?" asked Daryl eagerly. "Next week?" _

_Merle moved his shoulder's restlessly. "No, it'll take a lot longer than that." _

_Daryl's face fell. "Oh." _

_Merle put a hand on Daryl's thin shoulders. "Just hang tough and one day, you'll look out your window and see old Merle, comin' to get you." He smiled, encouraging Daryl to do the same. "Then the Dixon brothers are gonna ride outta this town and not look back. We'll raise hell and no one will get in our way ever again. You know why?" _

"_Cause-cause we're the Dixon brothers?" offered up Daryl tremulously. _

_Merle nodded approvingly. "That's right and nuthin' comes between blood, least, not for long it doesn't. You remember that, bro." _

"_I will," said Daryl, still looking crushed. _

_Merle squeezed his shoulder one last time and then turned away. He climbed onto his bike and started it up. Merle drove away from that house and made himself not look back because he didn't want to see the forlorn figure of his baby brother standing there, crying fresh tears as his big brother left him... _

**oooOOOOooo**

Merle raised the bottle of moonshine to his lips, lost in the past. He thought he'd been doing his brother a favour by leaving. At least, that was what Merle had told himself at the time. That damn woman's words were rattling around in his head now and he couldn't get them out.

"_Because I know what it's like to be hurt over and over again by the one person who claims to love you the most in the world and is meant to keep you safe. And then think it's your fault."_

That couldn't really be how Daryl felt about him, could it? Carol was just trying to drag them into her emotional drama. She didn't grow up with them, she didn't know shit about what they'd gone through together. Merle had always remembered every little slight and wrong done to him, rehearsing them over and over in his head. It was proof he wasn't responsible for his actions. It was everyone else's fault. He took another drink from the bottle, unable to wipe out the memory of young Daryl's tear-streaked face from his mind's eye. Merle might be able to use that excuse for everyone else, but Daryl had never done him wrong.

Not until now anyway.

Now it was Daryl leaving him behind and for the first time, Merle really knew how it felt to be abandoned by someone he'd always counted on. Sure, Daryl had come with him when they left the prison, but it hadn't taken Merle long to realise his heart wasn't in it. All of a sudden Merle was his brother's second choice and it was hitting him hard. Merle knew he was a worthless piece of shit but having Daryl wanting to be with him made it seem not so bad. Now that his brother had somewhere else he'd rather be, Merle felt the loneliness crowding in on him. It was why he'd hatched this dumbass plan in the first place. Sitting in this very cave last night and staring at his brother, it felt like he was really seeing Daryl for the first time and he wasn't what Merle wanted him to be, hell, needed him to be. At the time it had seemed like fate was egging him on when Carol and Carl dropped into his lap like that when he'd gone looking to inflict some pain on those who he figured had caused all of this in the first place.

The people who had turned his brother against him.

Merle hadn't been exactly set on what he was going to do to make everyone pay for the pain and betrayal he was feeling, but seeing those two it had come to him all at once. Take the kid from Rick so the guy would know what it was to lose something precious and irreplaceable. As for Carol, listening to Daryl talk about her, Merle knew the woman had wormed her way into the younger man's heart. It had stung badly to hear Daryl speak so reverently of someone. It felt like Carol had stolen something from him and Merle wanted it back. He knew Daryl would track them down with Rick in tow, shit, he was counting on it. Merle knew it had to be like this. He knew he had to look his brother in the eye and make him choose, once and for all. Rick would be wanting Daryl to take Merle down so he could get his boy back. It was going to come down to Daryl choosing to protect Merle or protect the others. It was the only way Merle could know for sure that he came first with his brother.

Do or die.

It was the only way Merle knew how to live.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carl kept a wary eye on Merle, even as he wiggled his hands frantically behind his back. He'd almost got it, just had to keep working on getting his thumb free. When he was a kid in kindergarten, Carl loved to make the little girls scream with his weird thumb. His Mom had told him he was double jointed in that one digit but all Carl had cared about at the time was that he could bend it out to a disgusting-looking angle and chase the girls around with it. Now he'd found an even better use for this strange talent as he managed to bend it right back to an unnatural angle with no pain. The rain outside was starting to get heavier. Carl could hear it on the roof of the cave and see it over Merle's shoulder. The man was sitting in the opening of the cave, his back to them and silently drinking his bottle of whatever it was. It seemed to him like Merle had forgotten about them with the start of the rain falling and that suited Carl just fine. The same rain which seemed to have distracted Merle had also pointed out an escape plan to Carl as he and Carol sat there, trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, waiting for the chop. Carl's left shoulder was getting wetter and wetter as water trickled in from above. When he'd first felt what had started as a couple of drops, Carl had looked up and seen an opening above and behind him a little. After looking more intently, he was sure he'd be able to fit through the narrow opening if he tried hard enough.

Carl held back a gasp of pain as the phone cord slid over his thumb, wrenching his other fingers as it did, but immediately his bounds were loosened. He shook his hand free and then cast another quick look over at Merle, who was still drinking and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Carl pulled his hand out from behind his back and reached out to gently touch Carol's leg. Her eyes went wide when she saw he was free. Carl pointed up at the ceiling, to show her the escape hatch he'd found. "I can get out," he half-mouthed, half-whispered, careful to make sure Merle couldn't hear them over the rain. Carl went to loosen Carol's bonds.

She shook her head urgently at him. "No time," she whispered. "You have to go, Carl."

His expression darkened. "I ain't leavin' you," he mouthed fiercely.

Carol's expression became determined."Yes, you are," she mouthed back. "Can you find your way back to the prison?"

Carl gave a short nod of his head. He'd done all the things Daryl had taught him about making sure you didn't get lost when you were out tracking. Carl was confident he could find his way back.

Carol's look was urgent. "Then go," she mouthed. "Run."

Carl hesitated, frustrated at the thought of what felt like the coward's way out. He couldn't just abandon Carol. Sure, he'd been focused on just getting his hands free up until now but in the back of his head, Carl figured he'd be able to get out of the cave and then get the jump on Merle. He glanced over at the large man and sent a longing look at his gun which was poking out of the elder Dixon brother's belt. Maybe he could sneak up and grab it?

Carol nudged him, seeming to know what he was thinking. She shook her head fiercely at him, her expression full of warning. "Run," she mouthed, managing to be loud in her silence.

Carl scowled, unhappy at the position he found himself in.

Carol nudged him again, making Carl read her lips. "I'll be fine but you have to hurry."

Carl's torn gaze met Carol's quietly resolute one and he gave up. They could sit there arguing all day and then he would have lost his chance at escape. With one last helpless look at Carol, Carl gave up and did what she wanted. They both looked at Merle to make sure he still wasn't paying any attention to them and then Carl slowly stood up, his back against the wall and eyes on Merle. He had to turn around to make it up into the opening in the roof. Carl took a deep breath and steeled himself to do just that, turning his back on Merle. He figured Carol would warn him if Merle suddenly turned round and saw him. Stepping up on a nearby rock, Carl was able to get his hand up into the opening in the roof. He hauled himself up, feet now off the ground as his other hand searched for a hold of something solid outside on the roof of the cave. Cold water from the rain splashed down on his hand as he blindly searched around for something solid to grab hold of to lever himself the rest of the way out. Carl tried to control his breathing, expecting at any moment to feel Merle's hand on him, roughly dragging him back down into the cave. The other problem was that Carl was going blind into whatever was outside the cave. Heck, he could stick his head out of that opening to find himself in the middle of a whole herd, on their way to wherever they were going. Carl found his leverage and grabbed hold of it tightly, pulling himself up. It was a tight fight through the uneven opening. He had to angle his shoulders just right but once they were threw; it was easy to pull the rest of his body out.

Carl blinked the rain out of his eyes as he frantically looked around, checking if the coast was clear. He couldn't see any Walkers and there were no cries from Merle, so he'd lucked out. Carl looked back over his shoulder to where the ground he was standing on dropped off and beneath was the opening to the cave. He could still do it, take a chance despite Carol's warnings. If he jumped down on Merle suddenly, surprised him, Carl knew there was a chance he might be able to catch the man off-guard enough to get his gun back. A very slim chance. A huge part of him wanted to go for it, no matter how tiny the chance of success might be but in the back of his head Carl could hear his father's voice, cautioning against it. Carl had often times found himself frustrated by the choices his dad had made in the past. It seemed to him that his Dad didn't always do the tough confrontations he should, like killing that Randall guy straight out when he had the chance. Now, standing there and knowing someone else's life hung in the balance over his choices, Carl knew what it was to stand in his father's shoes for the first time. The answer wasn't easy. He wanted to stay and protect Carol. It was impossible to know how Merle would react when he found Carl gone, but the boy knew Carol would have to bear the brunt of it. But if he tried and failed then he would have doomed them both most likely. In the end Carl made the only decision he could.

He turned and ran, desperate to get back to the prison and get back to Carol...

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol sat perfectly still, hardly daring to move a muscle. Every second Merle didn't turn around was another second Carl had to make his escape. Carol was counting them in her head.

_Fifty-eight Mississippi, fifty-nine Mississippi..._

She was counting the time in lots of sixty seconds and it was agonising. For one wild moment Carol had been fearful that Carl would attempt to take on Merle himself but a whole six minutes had ticked by and there was no sign of Carl. The thought made Carol relax ever so slightly. She had her doubts that Merle would have intentionally hurt the boy, but if Carl had just leapt on him from above the older man's reflexes would have kicked in before he saw who he was opening up with that knife on the end of his stump. Now all Carl had to do was navigate his way through the woods, in the rain and try to avoid any Walkers. She could only pray that he didn't run into anything he couldn't handle. Carol had counted up to eleven minutes now since Carl had made good his escape. Whatever Merle was thinking about certainly had tied up his attention.

Suddenly Merle shifted a little. "You two rested up?" he called back to her, not bothering to turn around. "We gotta get movin'."

Carol tried to keep him distracted. "I thought we'd arrived where we were goin'?" she answered.

"Nah." Merle craned his head up to look up at the sky. "Was just hopin' for a break in the rain but it looks like we're shit out of luck."

"Where are you taking us?"

Merle swallowed the last of the moonshine. "You'll see."

"Why can't we stay here?"

Merle snorted, still not bothering to turn around. "Ain't that just like a woman, wantin' to nest anywhere they land."

"You didn't answer my question."

Merle's shoulders moved in a shrug. "Too easy. I gotta make that boy sing for his supper." He peered out at the rain. "And this rain gonna make trackin' us harder. That little brother of mine has to think some to catch us up."

"And that's your plan?" Carol pushed him. "Daryl and Rick catch us up and then there is some big, dramatic showdown? How do you see yourself coming out on top with that kind of confrontation? You've backed Daryl up against a wall."

Merle twisted around, face set in annoyance. "Don't you worry yourself 'bout what I got-" He stopped abruptly, immediately taking in the fact that Carl was gone. "Where's the boy?" Merle asked harshly. Carol just looked at him, not replying. Merle scrambled to his feet and looked around. He stalked up to where Carol was sitting and picked up the undone phone cord and then noticed the slit in the cave roof. "Son of a bitch!" he snarled in disbelief.

Carol massaged the truth a little. "Carl's been gone at least twenty minutes. You'll never catch him."

Merle's furious gaze snapped down to her. "You figured those starvin' Walkers were a safer bet then bein' with me?" he ground out. "You didn't learn nuthin' from what happened to your little girl? That boy is gonna be Walker chow, thanks to what you just did."

"Carl isn't Sophia," said Carol quietly. "He's used to surviving and he knows how." She was working hard to quell her fears on that point. Carl just had to keep telling herself that what she said was true. Carl was no helpless Sophia unable to fend for herself and running scared in the woods. The boy had been through so much and had fought for survival as hard as any of them. Carl knew how to stay alive. The reason for Merle's anger surprised her however. She thought he'd be made they'd tricked him, not concerned for the son of a man he hated.

"What are you lookin' at, you stupid bitch?" Merle spat out at her.

"You're worried about Carl."

Merle scowled at her. "If that little shit thinks he can take on a whole wood of Walkers on his own, then he deserves everythin' he gets. Ain't no mind to me."

"But it's the first thing you thought of," countered Carol, watching him closely.

Merle's glare was fierce. "If you're lookin' for a heart of gold under this rough exterior then you're shit out of luck, missy," he growled. "I hope he does get bit and Rick finds him and has to put him down himself."

"No, you don't."

Merle violently threw the piece of phone cord to the other side of the room. "You tellin' me how what I think now?" It was obvious Merle was looking for a fight and Carol wasn't afraid to give it to him. "You don't know shit!"

"You're afraid," said Carol simply.

Merle's eyes widened a little. "Afraid?" he repeated in disdain. "I ain't the one tied up and helpless."

"Aren't you?"

Merle made a guttural sound of frustration and lunged for Carol. He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and dragged Carol to her feet. Merle had her back against the wall, him standing practically nose to nose to her. Carol knew it was all about Merle making her feel his size and power in comparison to her own but she didn't flinch away.

"You say one more piece of psycho-babble bullshit and I'm gonna give you somethin' else to do with that smart mouth of yours!" he yelled at her.

Carol's chin came up in defiance. "What's the matter, Merle, the truth a little hard for you to handle?"

"I ain't got no problems handlin' nuthin'," he threw back at her. "You're just some frustrated old nag who ain't had a real man between her legs for so long that she thinks she can stick her nose into everyone else's business to find a use for herself." Merle's face was flushed with an anger Carol knew only too well on a man's face. He shoved his leg aggressively between hers, forcing Carol's legs apart. "Maybe I should give you hand with that," he sneered.

Carol's heart was beating wildly in her chest as flashbacks of her husband's violence bombarded her but then a strange calm settled over her. In that moment, Carol found herself facing down yet another thing which used to leave her so paralysed with fear. "You think I haven't been raped before?" Carol challenged him, blue eyes hard and full of steel. "Do your worst, Merle. I don't have any fear to give you or any man no more."

Merle looked a little shocked and he blinked a couple of times at her defiance."I ain't a rapist," he growled, pushing himself away from her.

Carol gave a humourless laugh. "Funny, my husband would have said the same thing." She looked away briefly. "There was always a good reason. I didn't set the table right, I looked at him funny, didn't make him feel enough of a man. It was never his fault and always mine." Carol looked back at Merle and made sure he couldn't look away from her as she held his gaze unflinchingly. "I know how this works, Merle. You feel powerless, so you take power from someone else."

Merle's expression darkened but Carol wasn't put off.

"You want to know the truth, Merle Dixon?" Carol threw all caution to the wind and just spoke her mind. "The truth is you've been raping people your whole life and it started with Daryl."

Merle's reaction was explosive. He fist snapped back and Carol squeezed her eyes close, knowing there was no way to properly brace for the impact of a punch in the face. Experience told her that. She felt the force of Merle's punch whistle by her right cheek as his fist embedded it in the rock wall by her head. Carol gave a little gasp of shock and opened her eyes to see Merle's face in hers again, hot breath carrying the smell of alcohol on it. She turned her head to see the blood which was already dripping down the wall from Merle's fist. That punch must have hurt like hell, but all Carol could see in Merle's face was anger when she looked back at him.

"I took what was owed to me," Merle barked in her face. "Ain't no one is gonna give you what your owed lessin' you take it!"

"There's always a reason, always an excuse for every rotten thing you do, isn't there?" Carol challenged him. Merle's eyes narrowed menacingly but she kept going. "You tell yourself you're not a bad guy, it's just that everyone else is a prick tryin' to screw you over." She drew in an unsteady breath. "And I get that, I really do."

Merle arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "You do?" he said disdainfully.

"You're right," she said quietly, "I was a pathetic piece of shit who let her husband beat on her day in and day out." Carol gave a sad grimace. "And you know what the worst part of it was? I used to make excuses for him, buy into his bullshit, tell folks Ed wasn't that bad, that he was just under a lot of stress and didn't mean any of the things he did to me." Her expression became grave. "Abuse victims do that, you know. We make excuses for our abusers and try to protect them. It's sick and twisted but that's how it usually goes."

Some of the anger had gone from Merle's face and now he was just watching her intently. "Well, cry me a river, sassy mouth. You had a hard life, get in line."

Carol half-smiled at that. "I'm not looking for sympathy, Merle, but I think you know that. I was just pointing out that victims protect their abusers and that is exactly what you're doin'."

Merle screwed up his face. "What the hell are you talkin' 'bout? Ain't nobody abusin' me."

"But they did and the way you chose to deal with that abuse was to turn yourself into this man who is his own worst enemy." Carol could see Merle's pain and suffering as clearly as she could see her own and Daryl's. "You may have escaped the abuse of your daddy, but you still make sure to punish yourself in his place as often as you can."

Merle pushed away from the wall and glared at her. "I told ya to stop all that psycho-babble bullshit."

"Tell me isn't true," Carol pushed him. "Tell me you haven't managed to screw up every good thing which ever came your way. Tell me you're not made sure that instead of havin' the love Daryl offered you freely, you went outta your way to make as many people as possible to pay for that love." Carol's expression saddened. "Especially you and Daryl, you two are the ones who are gonna pay the most, no matter how this all plays out." She took a step towards him. "Do you really want that, Merle? Do you want Daryl to pay for all of your sins and shortcomings? Your brother has only ever loved you. Why do you feel the need to punish him for that?"

"That ain't what this is," he said hoarsely.

Carol pressed her advantage as some of her words clearly were resonating with Merle. "Then prove it," she urged him. "Stop all this craziness. We can go back to the prison, find Daryl and Rick and just sit down and talk about it." Merle wasn't answering her but Carol could see the muscle ticking wildly in his cheek as he wrestled with everything she'd just said to him. She took another step closer to him. "Merle, you can end all of this. You can start to make changes in your life. You don't have to always deal with things this way. You have options."

Merle was looking at her now and Carol thought she saw a moment of sadness flit across his features. "No, I don't," he said unevenly. "A man has to finish what he starts, that's how he knows he's a man."

"A man admits when he's taken the wrong path and does somethin' about it," she countered. "This is your chance, Merle. Don't do what you've always done. Make a different choice, make the right choice."

"The right choice for who?" he asked bitterly. "Me or everybody else?"

"The right choice for all of us," said Carol earnestly and then held her breath, waiting for Merle's reply...

**oooOOOOooo**

Carl just kept running, forcing himself to his feet every time he slipped on the uneven, wet ground. He kept expecting Merle to suddenly appear behind him or even just feel his flesh being torn open by a bullet from his own gun. As he kept covering the distance between the cave and the prison, Carl started to realise that he really had gotten away from Merle. That thought should have been a happy one, but Carl couldn't stop worrying about what Carol was going through because of him. His worry drove him on, even though his lungs were burning now. Carl had managed to avoid any Walkers he came across, the rain helping to mask his smell from them. He went to jump over a fallen log but misjudged it with the rain in his eyes. Carl slipped and tumbled over the log, his foot sliding into a hollow. He fell heavily on the ground, his ankle complaining with a sharp pain as he wrenched it. Carl bit out a curse word his mother would have paddled him for in another time. Pulling on his leg, Carl tried to get it free but he was at a difficult angle and couldn't manage to stand up to improve that angle any.

Suddenly there was a snarl behind him and Carl froze. He twisted around to see a female Walker heading out of the line of trees, hungry gaze intent on him. Carl renewed his attempts of get free, frantically twisting his leg this way and that but it was no good. Cold hands were grabbing at his shoulders and there was the smell of fetid breath in his nostrils as the creature bent over, ready to take a large chunk out of this unexpected meal. Carl's hand was scrabbling around in the dirt, trying to find a rock or stick to defend himself but there was nothing. He cried out in frustration and fear as the Walker tightened her grip on him and Carl had the briefest moment to wonder if death was going to hurt less than life as he realised there was no escape for him this time...

**A/N****: What I kind of like here (in my head, anyways) is that now we've got Daryl psyching himself up to deal with Merle once and for all, while on the other hand, we've got Merle starting to do some real soul searching for the first time in his life and start to reflect. I love that concept of bad timing, where if things had played out differently, a whole lot of suffering could have been avoided but now, it's inevitable that this is all going to be more pain for everyone involved. **

**When it comes to redeeming Merle I tend to think redemption can come in many forms. Sometimes just understanding a person better is its own form of redemption and that's what I'm endeavouring to do with these chapters. Merle is who he is, but getting in deeper to the whys and wherefores of it all gives you a richer understanding and (hopefully) compassion for the character. **


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N****: Okay, so sorry, guys, for this chapter taking me so long to get to you. I've been quite sick since Sunday and still having to drag myself to work every day, so the muse (and time wise), just haven't been in the running to get anything done sooner. The other woman I work with is away for 6 weeks holiday and I'm basically it while she's gone. I've got 4 days off in that 6 week period so it's going to be a bit rough. Still, I'm committed to finishing this story with hopefully the flourish it deserves for everyone's patience. :D **

**Now, on that note. I know I said I'd like to be finish by 40 chapters... that was my wishful thinking. The reality is that I'm now shooting to be done by 50 chapters. I'm usually overly optimistic in thinking I can wrap my stories up sooner rather than later. I think it's a psychological thing. LOL **

**Anyways, there is still a lot to happen in this story and for those of you going through Caryl withdrawals, don't worry, I've got plenty in store for you. ;) **

**Thanks everyone for reading and being so encouraging with this fic. At this point I really need the boost to find the energy to get it done. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, very weak. **

**Hope you enjoy...**

**Chapter Thirty Nine**

Carl was braced for the bite which never came. There was a whooshing sound by his ear and then suddenly the Walker was letting him go and falling limply to the ground. Carl looked down at the creature in shock, registering the Walker was now without a head. In fact, the female Walker's head was a few feet away, staring up into the falling rain with a vaguely surprised look on its face. Standing over that head was a black woman with long dreadlocks and a Samurai-looking sword still dripping with blood. Carl didn't know if he could trust what he was seeing as he stared in disbelief at what looked like some kind of dark angel. The skies thunder above the stranger's head, adding suitable drama to her already impressive appearance.

Her dark eyes skimmed him over, face expressionless. "You bit?"

Carl blinked as the apparition spoke to him. He tried to remember how to speak. "Ah, n-no."

Her expression hardened. "You sure?"

Carl had a sudden feeling he'd be meeting the same fate as the Walker if he hadn't been able to answer her question truthfully. "I'm sure." Now that he was calmer, Carl was able to manoeuvre his foot free of the log and he did just that. He scrambled to his feet and eyed the newcomer warily. "Who are you?"

She arched a cool eyebrow, both of them ignoring the rain and thunder. "Who are you?"

Carl scowled, automatically distrustful of anyone he didn't know. "I gotta go."

"You out here alone?"

"Why do you care?"

She was looking at him intently. "Call me curious."

"I don't have to tell you anthin'," Carl retorted.

"No, you don't," the stranger agreed casually, "but I did just save your life."

"I didn't ask you to."

The woman's lips actually quirked ever so slightly at his sass. "Michonne."

Carl frowned. "What?"

"It's my name. Michonne."

Carl hesitated. "Carl," he offered up reluctantly.

Michonne inclined her head by way of greeting.

Carl put some weight on his foot and was relieved to find it didn't offer any compliant. "I gotta go." He frowned at her. "Don't follow me."

"You were running pretty fast before you fell," offered up Michonne. "You running to something or from something?"

Carl tried to stare her down. "You're always runnin' from somethin' nowadays," he answered coolly. Before he could help himself, Carl cast a quick look over his shoulder. He was still not one hundred percent convinced that Merle wasn't going to burst out of those woods at any minute.

Michonne followed his gaze. "You expectin' someone?"

"No," said Carl too quickly.

She was still eyeing him curiously. "It's not safe for a boy like you to be out here all alone."

Carl's brow furrowed defensively. "I ain't a boy and I can take care of myself," he snapped.

Michonne didn't say anything, just cast a casual look at the Walker she'd killed and then looked back at Carl.

He flushed, hoping the rain would disguise his embarrassment from the stranger. "I woulda thought of somethin'," he muttered, knowing it wasn't true. Just like she did.

"Bein' out here in the woods without any kind of weapon isn't smart."

Her criticism stung for some reason and Carl bit back without thinking. "I had a gun but Merle took it," he said tersely.

For the first time Michonne registered some kind of emotion on her face. She took a quick step forward. "Merle?" she repeated with interest.

Carl cursed himself for his big mouth. He didn't answer and looked away.

"You know Merle?"

This surprised him and he looked back at her warily. "Do you?"

Michonne's hand drifted to her leg and Carl noticed for the first time that the material of her pants was torn and there was the stain of old dried blood which had never washed out properly.

Her expression was hard. "I know Merle." Michonne's intense gaze cut through him. "He a friend of yours?"

Carl snorted. "No. You?"

"No." The single word was cold and dripping with menace.

For a moment Carl actually felt scared on Merle's behalf and then he came to his senses.

Michonne's eyes narrowed. "Is he the guy you're runnin' from?"

Carl didn't like how cowardly that made him sound. "I'm gettin' reinforcements." His face clouded over. "He's taken a friend of mine." Carl grimaced, not sure why he was sharing all of this with her.

"Do you know where Merle is now?"

It seemed Michonne wasn't interested in reinforcements. Carl frowned. "I know where I left him."

"Take me to him," she ordered him.

"Why?"

Michonne didn't bat an eyelid. "I'm going to kill him."

"Why?"

"He tried to kill me. It's my turn to return the favour."

"Why did he try and kill you?"

"Because his boss told him to." She looked vaguely annoyed. "And he's an asshole."

"I know," said Carl absently and then processed her words. "Merle has a boss?"

Michonne's shoulders moved a little restlessly, betraying her impatience. "The longer we stand around talking, the bigger the chance Merle has of moving on." She gave him a sharp look. "Take me to him, now. I'll deal with Merle. You don't need any other reinforcements."

Carl could believe that about this imposing woman but bottom line was that he didn't know her. He didn't know if anything she'd just told him was true. For all he knew, Michonne was an ally of Merle's, looking to be reunited with him. Even if she wasn't and her plan for revenge was sincere, there was no guarantee that Carol wouldn't get caught in the crossfire of whatever war these two had going on between them. "No, I'm gettin' my Dad and Daryl. They'll fix this."

"Daryl?"

"Merle's brother."

Michonne's jaw hardened. "He an asshole too?"

"No," said Carl quickly, "he's a good guy. He's one of us." Carl cursed his loose lips again as he gave away yet more information he didn't mean to.

Michonne eyed him up and down, clearly mulling over all of this information. "Fine," she said shortly. "We find your people and then you take us all to find Merle."

"That'll be up to my Dad to decide," said Carl boldly. "And I don't need your help."

"You're unarmed and there are a lot of Walkers about," she reasoned. "Seems to me you'd be a fool to walk away from the protection I'm offering."

Carl hesitated.

"If you die in these woods then your friend dies too," said Michonne simply. "Merle doesn't take prisoners and if he does, then death ends up sounding like the better option to most."

Carl's heart leapt a beat at hearing what he already knew to be true. Merle could be ruthless and brutal when his back was up against the wall and Carol hadn't seemed inclined to try and make things any easier. It was obvious Merle didn't appreciate Carol speaking her mind as much as she did. He gnawed on the tender flesh of his inner lip. "Okay," he agreed reluctantly, "but you can't stay. You help us get Merle and then you leave."

Michonne gave him a cool look, as though the very thought of such a thing was beneath her.

**oooOOOOooo**

The thunder cracked and roared above their heads as Carol shook the rain out of her eyes. "This is ridiculous!" she shouted above the pouring rain. "Where are we going, Merle?" For one hopeful moment, Carol had hoped that Merle might have listened to her in this cave and abandoned his plan for revenge but it wasn't to be. She'd seen the internal war Merle was going through in the man's eyes but in the end he'd chosen to revert back to form. It was as frustrating as hell because Carol knew a part of Merle didn't want things to end like this. He was just too stubborn and afraid to admit it.

"You'll see," he yelled back. "Got us a cosy little place to hunker down."

Carol couldn't imagine such a place seeing as they were in the middle of nowhere. Her feet were slipping on the water-logged ground, the leaf litter sliding under her feet as she tried to make it up what was becoming a substantial incline. "And then what?" Carol pushed him. They were getting close to water. She could hear the roar of fast moving water and lots of it. Carol prayed Merle wasn't expecting them to cross it. She was having enough trouble staying upright with her hands tied behind her back as it was.

"Then we wait," said Merle. Even he was having trouble keeping his footing against this onslaught as he slipped backwards down the hill, pulling on the phone cord wrapped around Carol's wrists.

The sudden jerk behind her caused Carol to fall backwards, landing painfully on her backside. "OW!" she squawked.

Merle was quickly standing over her, grabbing her by her shoulders and helping Carol to stand again. "You right there?"

Carol turned around and snapped at him. "No, I'm not alright!" she snapped at him. "I'm tethered to an idiot!"

Merle's eyebrows shut up at annoyance and then he was fighting a smile. "You in a mood, sassy mouth?"

Carol made a frustrated noise, trying to glare at Merle while blinking the relentless rain out of her eyes. "I'm wet-"

"I have that effect on women," Merle smirked, seemingly in a good mood all of a sudden.

Carol just reacted, kicking him in the shins.

"Shit!" yelped Merle as he hopped backwards, bending down and rubbing his leg. "What the hell, woman?!"

"You listen to me, Merle Dixon," said Carol, in full mom-voice mode, "you're going to stop all this foolishness and you're going to stop it now!"

Merle looked a little taken aback. "No, I ain't," he muttered, sounding for all the world like a rebellious teen.

"You're breaking your brother's heart and I'm not gonna let you do it," said Carol determinedly. "You're gonna try and make him choose between his brother and other people who love him and that ain't right. Whatever happens, Daryl is gonna end up being miserable. Even you can't be selfish enough to want that!"

"I'm makin' things simple!" Merle argued back fiercely. "A man has to know where his loyalties lie. I'm givin' my brother that opportunity to find out what matters to him most. Daryl's either with me or he ain't. It's as simple as that."

Carol screwed up her face in agitation. "What are you, three years old? Not everythin' in this world is black and white, Merle."

"It is in mine," said Merle unapologetically.

"Oh yeah," said Carol sarcastically, "and that's just work out great for you so far, hasn't it?"

"I'm alive, ain't I?" he threw back.

"Merle, this isn't livin'," said Carol emphatically. "You're standing in the middle of a violent thunderstorm, one-handed, surrounded by Walkers and plannin' on hurtin' the one person in this world who actually loves you and it's all your own doing! Explain to me how that's livin'?"

Merle grunted. "I'm livin' life on my own terms. No one is gonna tell me what to do."

"Great rule," said Carol mockingly. "It's a shame you don't offer the option of the same mantra to your brother."

Merle glared at her for that dig. "I'm just makin' things real clear for that boy. Either he loves me or he loves your precious little group. Once that cleared away, then we can all get on with our lives."

Carol looked up at the billowing black sky and the flashes of lightning periodically highlighting it. "Are you really this backward?" She turned her attention back on him. "Let me explain how love works, Merle."

Merle snorted. "This should be good."

"Love isn't finite." Carol arched an eyebrow. "You need me to use smaller words?"

"I think I can keep up," said Merle sardonically.

"You aren't born with a certain amount to give and that's it," Carol continued on, making one last ditch effort to divert disaster. "Daryl loving other people doesn't mean he has less love to give you. That isn't how loving people works."

"That's bullshit," snapped Merle.

"No, it's not," said Carol sharply.

"When Daryl came along, our Momma didn't give a crap 'bout me," said Merle fiercely. "Hell, she was gonna-" He stopped abruptly and looked away.

Carol frowned as she watched Merle struggle to get himself back under control. There was so much more to Merle's story then he showed the world; that was obvious. It made Carol sad to think of all that a young Merle must have had to endure to turn him into the brash, self-destructive man standing in front of her. The two brothers were so different with how they'd handled their abusive upbringing. Daryl had turned in on himself, burying who he was deep down inside of him. It was tragically funny to Carol that it took the end of the world to draw the real Daryl out. But then, she understood better than anyone, having handled adversity in the same way. Before, their lives had been outwardly civilised and free, but inwardly brutal. Now, the life around them was brutal but inwardly she and Daryl had found a kind of freedom which had eluded them the rest of their lives. Merle, on the other hand, had chosen to lash out, put on a huge production to anyone who'd take notice that he was no one's victim and had ironically ended up victim of his own defence mechanism. "Sometimes things appear one way to a child but that doesn't mean it's the real truth," said Carol quietly. "From what Daryl's told me, your mother was a very sad and lost woman."

"Yeah," said Merle tightly, "and she had reason to be. Our Daddy made sure of that."

Carol took a step closer to him. "Merle, Daryl isn't like your mother. His love for you isn't gonna be affected by letting anyone else in his life. You don't have to make him chose between any of us." She kept her voice low and comforting. "I know there is a part of you that wants to do the right thing."

"And the right thing would be to let you go and pretend that none of this has happened, right?" Merle's lips hardened. "I don't reckon Rick or anyone else is gonna be interested in bein' reasonable now."

"You don't know that," said Carol quickly. "I can talk to everyone. This doesn't have to be how it ends. You're better than you give yourself credit for."

Merle searched her face intently. "You tryin' to save me, sassy mouth?" he said huskily, all the anger abruptly gone from him. "You lookin' to save my soul and earn some brownie points with the Big Guy?"

"I'm lookin' to be your friend, Merle," said Carol simply. "Everythin' that was before, it's gone now. We have a chance at makin' a new life and doin' things a different way then what we used to. I know it can be done. I'm livin' proof of that. You don't have to always make sure you end up alone."

Merle's expression was hard to read, but Carol knew her words had made an impact on him. "It's too late," he rasped. "I've come too far. There ain't no goin' back now."

"That's only true if you want it to be true," said Carol urgently.

He shook his head. "Sorry, missy," he said unevenly, "I'm a lost cause. There ain't no savin' old Merle."

"Quitter," Carol said with a note of accusation in her voice.

"Realist," countered Merle. A flash of pain crossed his face. "There ain't no happy endin' for me, sassy mouth." His eyes locked with hers. "I don't deserve it." With that telling observation Merle was turning away from her. He pulled on the cord between them. "C'mon," he said gruffly, "we ain't where we need to be yet. We gotta keep movin' before we drown in this fuckin' rain."

Carol had no choice but to follow him, the two of them tackling the slippery slope once again as they marched towards what felt like a now inevitable fate...

**oooOOOOooo**

A loud crack of lightening hit the ground somewhere not too far from where they were. The ground shaking beneath their feet was evidence of that. Rick wiped his hand over his face. "How much further?"

Daryl looked back over his shoulder at Rick. "It's not far now."

Rick grimaced, knowing his idea of 'not far' varied greatly to the experienced woodsman. Every minute which ticked away felt like a tiny death to Rick. Anything could have happened to Carl by now. His son wasn't known for his restraint these days and Merle wasn't one to take kindly to being sassed. It was a recipe for disaster. He made a frustrated noise. "What happened with you and Merle? What set him off?" Rick was trying to get a read on what they might be walking into. It was most likely going to turn into a hostage negation situation, and that was the best case scenario. All the rest didn't bear thinking about. Although, Rick already knew, when it came to protecting Carl and Carol, he wouldn't hesitate to put Merle down.

Glenn was a couple of steps behind Rick as Daryl led them confidently through the woods. "Does Merle need a reason to be a bastard?"

"Merle's always got a reason," muttered Daryl. "But it usually only makes sense to him." He suddenly stopped walking and held up his hand, indicating they should stop.

Rick tensed, looking around to see if Daryl had seen something. Instead Daryl tilted his head to one side and seemed to be listening intently. Rick strained his hearing as well but didn't hear anything over all that thunder and rain. Daryl put a finger to his lips and then pointed over to their left. That was when Rick heard it too. It sounded like something running, crashing through the undergrowth. He and Glenn exchanged solemn looks as they both raised their rifles. Daryl made a sweeping hand gesture, indicating they should fan out and Rick and Glenn silently complied. After almost a year of fighting for your life by each other's side, they pretty much had each other's moves down pat. They'd forged themselves into a team long ago. If they hadn't they'd all be dead now. As Rick crept forward, rifle raised, he was conscious of having difficulty in pinning down exactly where the noise was coming from. It seemed to be moving around a bit. He didn't know if that was the loud weather playing tricks on him or if they were about to run into Merle dragging Carl and Carol along or just a whole bunch of Walkers. If it was Walkers Rick knew he was going to be using his knife to put them down. It was a lot quieter.

Daryl had moved out to Rick's right, Glenn to his left. They moved forward, everyone on alert as the noises seemed to be getting louder. Rick caught some movement off to his right and quickly stepped closer. Through the trees he could see a figure moving and he impatiently shook the rain from his eyes to be able to focus properly. Abruptly Carl burst out of a line of trees in front of him, running hard. Rick barely had time to register that it was his son and the relief flooding his body when he saw a dark woman running up behind Carl, her hand going to the sword strapped to her back. Rick just reacted, he didn't think. He ran at the stranger, full tilt and catching her off-guard as they crashed into one another. She gave a grunt of pain as they hit the ground together, Rick on top of her.

Carl had stopped running at the sound of collision and turned around. "Dad!" he said in shock.

Before Rick could reply, the woman was throwing her off him with an impressive display of strength and scrambling for her sword which Rick had knocked out of her hand. Rick grabbed for his rifle as the woman spun around on ground and in a flash of an eye had her blade at his throat. Rick kept his rifle trained on her as they glared at each other, neither one backing down.

"NO!" yelled Carl, rushing towards them.

Rick gave the barest of glances at Carl and went to tell him to stay where he was when a Walker stepped out the woods and started towards his son. Before Rick could react, an arrow was sticking out of the creatures head and it slumped to the ground, spent.

"Dad, Michonne, NO!" Carl ordered them both.

Glenn and Daryl had stepped out of the woods now and they all had their weapons trained on the woman who was still sitting on the ground.

"Carl," said Rick urgently, "are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Dad," said Carl quickly, "just don't shoot Michonne." He looked at the rest of them. "Glenn, Daryl, it's okay, put down your weapons."

"We'll think about it after the Last Samurai here goes first," growled Daryl.

"Michonne," Carl pleaded with her. "Please, it's okay. They won't hurt you."

The woman sent them all darkly suspicious looks and Rick could see the stalemate wasn't going to be broken from her end. He dropped the tip of his rifle down and stepped away. Rick looked at the others. "Put them down," he instructed them.

Daryl and Glenn exchanged glances, but then they did as Rick had requested. The stranger now lowered her sword as well.

Rick's attention was back on his son as swiftly covered the distance between them and caught Carl up in a bear hug, straightening up so that the teenager's feet dangled off the ground.

"Dad," squeaked Carl, "c-can't breathe."

Rick immediately loosened his grip and put Carl back down on the ground. His hands went to run all over him, checking for any kind of injury. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt," said Carl hastily, "but we have to hurry."

Daryl was keeping a wary eye on the woman, but his tone was all business. "Where's Carol? What happened?"

"I got away," said Carl and then pulled a face. "I had to leave Carol. I didn't want to, Dad, but she made me-"

"You did the right thing, Carl." Rick interrupted his regret. "If you had a chance to escape, you had to take it."

Daryl stepped closer, his expression hard. "Is Carol alright?"

Carl's head bobbed up and down. "Yeah, at least she was when I left." His face crumpled up in concern. "I don't know what Merle mighta done to her when he found out I was gone."

Daryl's jaw hardened. "Were you at the cave?"

Again Carl nodded. "Yeah."

Daryl turned on his heel and went to disappear into the woods again.

"Daryl!" said Rick sharply. "Stop."

Daryl swung around and glared at him. "You got your boy back, now it's time for me to deal with my brother."

"We go together," said Rick warned him.

"That was the plan," agreed Glenn.

"And I'm coming too."

For a moment Rick had almost forgotten the woman. He turned around and watched her attempt to struggle to her feet. "No, you're not."

She was having trouble standing and Rick saw a growing patch of blood on her leg which the rain couldn't wash away fast enough. Her eyes narrowed. "I've got unfinished business with his brother."

Daryl scowled at her. "I know you?" he bit out.

"That's a good question," echoed Glenn. "Who the hell are you, lady?"

"Her name is Michonne and she kinda helped me out back there a bit," offered up Carl.

"I saved your life," said reminded him flatly.

Carl looked reluctant to admit to such vulnerability. "Yeah, that's what I said, you helped me out."

"And in return your people were going to take me to Merle," Michonne pushed, even as she was forced to lean heavily on a tree, just to keep herself upright.

Glenn looked her over. "I don't think you're in any kind of state for a smack down with a Teletubbie, let alone Merle Dixon."

"I'll be fine," she said from behind gritted teeth, obviously in a lot of pain.

"What beef have you got against my brother?" asked Daryl sharply.

"He came huntin' for me," she said tersely. "Shot me in the leg nearly a month ago. I shoulda died out here but I wouldn't give him the satisfaction."

Glenn looked at Rick. "That's about when Merle showed up on our doorstep," he reminded the other man.

Rick nodded in agreement.

Glenn looked back at Michonne. "You're not going anywhere with that leg like that."

Her chin came up in defiance. "I'm fine."

"You'll slow me down," said Daryl unsympathetically. He sent an impatient look Rick's way. "We done standin' round jawin'? We're wastin' time."

Rick made a decision, not even sure it was the right one. "Glenn, you and Carl take Michonne back to the prison."

"No!" said Michonne sharply.

"No, I'm comin' with you, Dad."

Rick fixed his gaze on Carl. "Did this woman save your life?"

Carl hesitated. "Yes."

"Then we owe her a debt, _you_ owe her a debt. You have to help Glenn get her back to the prison so Hershel can take care of her leg." The leg Rick had inadvertently injured again but he didn't feel the need to mention that.

"I ain't askin' for anyone's help," snarled Michonne. "I can look after myself."

"Good," said Rick flatly, "that mean you can leave as soon as you're patched up. This ain't an offer of hospitality."

"Glenn can take Michonne back by himself," argued Carl fiercely. "I gotta come with you to look for Carol. It's because of me she is stuck alone with Merle."

Rick could see the distress that thought was causing his son, and the driving need in the teenager's eyes to make it right. He understood that, but still hesitated.

"Whatever we're doin', just do it," snapped Daryl. "I'm leavin'." With that he turned around and marched off into the woods.

Rick was aware of how quickly he'd lose the determined Daryl if he didn't act now. "Glenn, take Michonne back to the prison. Carl, you're with me, but you do everythin' I tell you to do, when I tell you, got it?"

Carl looked hugely relieved.

"I'm coming with you," insisted Michonne stubbornly.

"No problem, as long as you can keep up," said Rick as he nodded at Carl to get moving, knowing the woman had no chance of doing that. He looked over at Glenn. "We good?"

"I guess," said Glenn, who didn't look overjoyed at his babysitting duty. Particularly when the baby in question looked like it was going to be as ungrateful, as Michonne struggled to take a few steps and then fell over, cursing under her breath.

"If she tries anythin', kill her," Rick ordered the other man.

"Way ahead of you," said Glenn easily as Rick went to catch up with Carl and Daryl. "Good luck. Bring Carol home safely and kill Merle," he called out after him, "alot!"

Rick gave a vague wave of acknowledgement as he ducked and weaved through the bushes and low hanging branches in Carl and Daryl's footsteps. He caught them up and now they were moving at real speed. Rick kept casting small worried looks at Carl, concerned this pace was going to be too much for him after his ordeal. The boy's jaw was stubbornly set as he ran alongside his father and reminded Rick in an instant of Lori, when she was fixing to be immovable about something. The thought sent a pang through his heart as they raced to keep up with Daryl. All sense of time had been lost now and Rick wasn't sure how long it was before they were back at the cave Carl and Daryl had been talking about.

Daryl was instantly at the entrance, crossbow raised. "Merle!" he called out. "You in there?" There was no answer so Daryl carefully moved forward as Rick kept his rifle trained on the entrance to the cave. Daryl disappeared into the cave and was out seconds later. "They're gone," he said tersely and was already looking around for tracks.

Rick looked at Carl. "Did Merle say where he might be takin' y'all? Anythin' at all?"

"No," said Carl unhappily. "He just kept sayin' he had a plan to get what was owed to him."

Rick looked back at Daryl. "Do you think Merle's takin' Carol to this Woodbury place?"

"Don't know," grunted Daryl, still intent on trying to find some tracks in the soggy, mud-ridden ground.

Rick grimaced. If Merle was planning on taking Carol to Woodbury, that was going to make things hard for them. The last thing Rick wanted was an all out war between a neighbouring group of survivors. There was no way for that to end well.

Daryl was speaking. "Carl, you know Merle's tracks?"

"Yeah," said Carl quickly, "he's got that cut in the sole of his shoe. I'd know it anywhere."

"There's only two real ways Merle could have gone," said Daryl, his tone short and to the point. "You and your Dad go up on top of the cave and check down until the river bends off to the right. I'll go up here to the left and take the low ground and meet you there. Keep an eye out for Merle or anyone's tracks and give a holler if you find any."

Carl looked pleased to have a real job to do. "Okay."

Rick looked at Daryl, taking in the tense set of the other man's shoulders. "We're gonna find her," he promised him quietly. "Carol's tough. She's gonna stay alive until we find her, Daryl. You know that, right?"

Daryl looked away briefly and Rick could see the way the muscles in his jaw were flexing wildly as Daryl struggled to keep his emotions in check. "You two better get goin'," he said gruffly. "I'll meet you at the river's bend." With that, Daryl was taking himself off to track along the path he'd set for himself.

"C'mon, Dad," said Carl urgently, "the more it rains, the harder the tracks are to find." Carl was already climbing up the incline to stand on top of the cave and look around intently.

It took them about half an hour to get to the bend in the river that Daryl had told them about. The whole time Rick couldn't help but think there was little point in trying to track in this weather. If there were tracks there and they hadn't been washed away, they were full up with water and it made it impossible to work out what was what. Rick didn't say anything though, knowing both Carl and Daryl needed to do this. Already in his head he was planning what to do next. Let the rain pass and then there was a better chance of picking up some kind of trail. They'd head back to the prison, restock and then set out again as soon as there was a break in the weather. It took another fifteen minutes to pass as they waited at the river, trying to find some kind of shelter under the trees, when Rick started to get suspicious.

Carl spoke up first. "Daryl's takin' a long time."

Rick looked up the river, knowing Carl was right. "Mm," he murmured noncommittally.

"You think he's alright?"

Rick was beginning to have that gnawing feeling in his stomach, that feeling that everything wasn't how it should be. A cop's gut instinct was a real thing and it had saved him more than once. Rick was now starting to wonder if it might be coming a little too late this time round. "We'll give him another ten minutes," offered up Rick. Ten long minutes dragged by and then Rick knew his gut was right. Daryl had sent them off on a wild goose chase. He must have picked up his brother's tracks back at the cave and wanted to make sure he was alone when he confronted Merle. Rick closed his eyes and blew out an annoyed breath, frustrated at himself for his short-sightedness and Daryl for his stubbornness. "Damn it, Daryl," he growled. "What have you gone and done?"

**A/N****: So, it's all happening in the next chapter. I'll get it to you as soon as I can, but basically, I have no idea when that will be. Hope for the best, expect the worst on that front, guys. . **


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N****: Well, here we are folks, when the rubber hits the road. The next few chapters is going to be all about me attempting to pull together a big over-arching concept I've been building up for the last 320+ pages. Sooo... no pressure then. . **

**These next few chapters you'll get to see my original idea for the Daryl/Merle/Carol s/l arc which was the concept for this s/l. I'm hoping it'll be an emotionally satisfying pay off as we go along. All of these characters are very dear to me, so I have two main objectives when I'm writing this story – to entertain you all and to write a story which is authentic to TWD world. Now, as to who successful either of those things will be is completely up to you, the reader – you have the power. ;) But ultimately I have had a blast playing around with the dynamics of such rich characters and giving my take on them. :D **

**Hmm, that sounded like a goodbye speech, but we've still got more than a couple chapters to go yet. Maybe 5 or 6, I don't know. I'm always such a horrible judge of these things. **

**Anyways, I'm going to nervously await to see what you make of this chapter while I get cracking on the next, extremely important one. Dag, I hate the pivotal chapters, you never know if they work or not until you read reviews. LOL **

**So, carry on and I'll see you in the next chapter... :D **

**Chapter Forty**

"You know, Merle, people who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it," said Carol, having to raise her voice above the din of the elements.

"A rolling stone gathers no moss," Merle shot back at her.

Carol looked back over her shoulder at him in confusion. "What?"

"I thought we were exchangin' sayin's," he returned innocently.

She gave him a censured look. "You can play the fool all you want, Merle, but I know you're not one. I'm makin' sense and you know it."

"Why do women always assume they know what a man is thinkin'?"

"Because most men are an open book," she sassed him, "and that open book is the 'Hungry Caterpillar.'"

Merle shook his head and held back a snort of laughter as they struggled up the slope. He couldn't help but admire her tenacity. It was amazing to Merle how many different sides he'd seen to a woman he'd once labelled a bland victim. And even more amazing were all the different emotions she'd brought out in him. Carol had made him mad, sad, frustrated, reflective, defensive and a whole lot of other emotions. She was nothing he'd expected from the moment they'd met up again. Every minute it was easier to see why his brother reacted so differently to her compared to other women in the past. Carol and Daryl's relationship confused him. Merle didn't know what it was. It clearly wasn't about just getting their rocks off with one another. They weren't using each other for sex to block out the hell of the world around them but it wasn't purely platonic either. It had been so easy to make his normally even-tempered brother jealous when it came to Carol. That meant Daryl felt some kind of ownership when it came to Carol and the way sassy mouth was all up in Merle's grill, it was obvious she felt the same way about Daryl.

The thing Merle couldn't work out is what that all added up to.

They weren't hot and heavy lovers like that Chinese kid and the brunette with the firm ass. But then, they weren't exactly Rick and Carol either. The latter relationship seemed to have very clear boundaries of an easy friendship. Merle had to wonder if even Daryl or Carol knew where the boundaries of their relationship lay, or if it even had any. The thought was a foreign one to Merle and would have thought it was the same for Daryl as well. It wasn't like they'd grown up watching a healthy, loving relationship modelled for them in their home. Neither he nor Daryl had the first idea what the hell something like that would look like. Actually, that wasn't quite true. The way Merle had sometimes caught Daryl looking at Carol when he thought no one was watching, it stirred an old memory. A memory Merle had been determined to forget a long time ago. It was the look of a man completely caught up in one woman. The most incidental of touches had a powerful and unspoken meaning that only they knew. Merle had once witnessed a kind of communication between a man and a woman where their silences said just as much as their words. At the time he hadn't realised what he was looking at was so rare and precious but even if he had, that wouldn't have changed what had come of it all.

Merle grimaced as he trudged along. Those kinds of feelings for another person only lead to grief and heartache. The truth was, seeing Daryl look at Carol that way made Merle afraid for his little brother and for himself. That looked mirrored another from the dim distant past and it terrified Merle because everything in his world had changed after that. Daryl's too, even though the kid hadn't known it at the time. To him, nothing good could ever come of sharing that kind of bond. It was doomed to a tragic end. Merle had seen that first hand with his own eyes. He grunted under his breath, impatient with himself for dragging up unwanted memories from the past. Instead Merle concentrated on their destination. They were nearly at the top of the incline they'd been struggling up and the roar of the raging water below was almost deafening. Once they were at the top it wouldn't take Merle but an instant to get his bearings and then point them in the right direction. Then, when they got where they were going, all they had to do was wait.

Merle knew Daryl would track him down. His younger brother had a way with moving about in the woods. Daryl was even a better tracker than him, but Merle would rather die than admit that. Even so, he respected his brother's skills in the woods and knew that he was going to catch them up sooner or later. He glanced at Carol's back, her t-shirt clinging to her toned back and clearly showing the bra she was wearing. It felt like this was how it was always meant to play out, just the three of them. Soon, all the confusion was going to end and everyone would have their cards on the table. A movement out of the corner of Merle's eye had him grabbing for his gun. He reacted without thinking, shooting the Walker which had stumbled across them.

Carol's whole body jerked in surprise at the shot. When she saw the fallen Walker, Carol twisted around and glared at him. "Merle!" she exclaimed in disapproval. "Don't shoot just one Walker. You'll bring a whole herd down on us."

"Don't teach your grannie how to suck eggs," he threw back at her unapologetically. Carol was right, of course, but Merle knew they were almost where they needed to be, so he wasn't overly worried.

"I don't think anyone would ever have to teach you how to suck, Merle Dix-AAHHHH!" Carol's snarky rejoinder was interrupted as some of the saturated ground beneath her feet gave way and she slid down the hill a little, losing her footing and managing to face plant into the ground.

Merle chuckled at the comical sight. "Serves you right for sassin' me, missy."

"Oww," groaned Carol into the mud, having difficulty getting up with her hands still tied behind her back.

Merle quickly covered the ground between them and grabbed Carol's arm, helping to lever her off the ground. In his haste Merle didn't think about her hands being tied as he tried to yank Carol to her feet. "A mountain goat you ain't, girlie," he teased her. Carol screamed as Merle accidentally jerked her shoulder out of its socket as he tried to get her upright again. Merle pulled a face to see the way her shoulder blade now stuck out at an unnatural angle. "Oh fuck," he muttered and moved to pop it back into place.

"Don't touch me!" screamed Carol, obviously beside herself in pain. "Don't touch me!" She tried to pull away from him but only slipped over again, this time landing on her back and causing another yelp of excruciating pain.

"Quit wigglin' round, woman!" he threatened her, trying to get a grip on Carol's shoulder despite her best efforts to kick him away. "I'm tryin' to help!" Merle didn't blame Carol for carrying on a bit. He'd dislocated his shoulder on more than one occasion and every time it had hurt like a mother bitch. Merle wrestled with the sobbing Carol, trying to get her in the right position to fix what he'd inadvertently caused. He straddled her, sitting down on Carol's stomach to try and stop her flailing about and grabbed her shoulder and arm at the same time.

"Get off me, you son of a bitch!" Carol yelled at him, in too much pain to think straight and then Merle was snapping her joint back into its socket. Carol gave a last strangled cry and promptly passed out from the pain.

**oooOOOOooo**

Rick and Carl were both holding themselves tensely as they strained to hear anything more after that first shot. They'd had no choice but to return to the cave and wait out the weather. Rick figured if they could catch a small break in the rain, then they might have a chance at trying to work out where Daryl had gone. It was a slim hope, but then, he'd held onto slimmer ones and some of them had worked out okay.

"Dad," said Carl, brow knit with worry.

Rick's expression was pained. "I know," he ground out, "but I can't even tell which way that shot came from in all of this rain. I'm sorry, Carl, we can't help Carol and Daryl right now. All we can do is wait."

Carl's face tightened. "I hate waitin'."

"Yeah, well," sighed Rick, "sometimes life is all about doin' the things you wish you didn't have to." He pulled a face. "I was kinda hopin' you'd get to be a bit older before learnin' that lesson." It was an odd thing but Rick often felt like he mourned Carl's lost childhood more than his son did. Rick knew what Carl was missing out on, the carefree existence of youth and the carelessness of adolescence while his son didn't. It was a kind of comfort, Rick supposed, cold as it was. He drew his knees up and rested his hands on them as they sat, both of them with their backs against the wall and sitting close to share some body warmth. At least, that was what Rick had told Carl when he instructed him to sit close alongside him but the truth was he just wanted to feel his son against him and reassure himself that he really did have Carl back. The people you loved too easily slipped through your fingers these days and Rick just wanted to take a moment to relish that, for them at least, this latest turn of events had ended happily. Rick wasn't so sure how it was going to work out for the other three still struggling through this mess.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

Rick turned his head to look down at Carl's contrite face in surprise. "For what?"

The boy's head was hung right down as he mumbled his answer into his chest. "I-I used to get angry with you, for makin' the choices you did," he confessed unhappily. "I thought the right thing to do was obvious and you just never seemed to do it. You always chose to run off and look after other people than stay with Mom and me."

Carl's words cut through Rick so deeply he was actually surprised that blood wasn't pouring from those wounds but he couldn't refute what his boy was saying. How many times had he laid awake at night, second guessing the choices which had lead them all here, to the situations which had ended so badly?

Carl continued speaking. "But after today, when I had to make a choice to stay with Carol or run to find help, I know what it feels like to not know what to do. Whatever I did, so many things could have gone wrong. I just didn't know what the right thing to do was." His face dropped. "I still don't know if I did the right thing."

"You did," said Rick softly.

Carl moved his shoulders restlessly. "Not if we never see Carol and Daryl again," he said shakily. "Maybe if I stayed and caught Merle off-guard, then this could have been over already."

"Or you and Carol could be dead now," said Rick solemnly. "Don't let the 'what if's' get into your head, Carl. Trust me, no good can come of that."

"I can't help it," he confessed unhappily.

"Carl, I can't tell you how many times I wished the answers were black and white in this last year," said Rick soberly. "That there was only one right way and it was always gonna lead to everythin' workin' out like I wanted." Rick looked at his hands resting on his knees. "But you know, maybe I was wrong thinkin' like that," he said quietly.

Carl sent him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when important things rest on a decision, then it should be hard, that's how you know they're important. Maybe I was bein' selfish by wantin' everythin' to be easy for me because that would mean nothin' important was at stake." Rick sent Carl a sombre look. "You and your momma and now Judith, you're the most precious things to me. It should be hard knowin' how to look after you all because I have so much to lose when it comes to you three. Same with the group. I set myself up as their leader, now I gotta carry that weight and if all the answers came easy to me, then maybe I'm wouldn't be givin' that trust the respect and weight it deserved." He grimaced. "Am I makin' any kind of sense at all?"

"I think so," said Carl slowly. "With great power comes great responsibility." He gave a lop-sided smiled. "That's from Spiderman."

Rick gave a dry laugh. "Well, the guy ain't wrong, even if he were's his long johns out in public."

Carl half-smiled and they lapsed into silence again for a bit until he spoke again. "Do you think Daryl is gonna kill Merle?"

Rick stared at a spot on the wall across from them. "I don't know, Carl. I just don't know."

"Do you want him to?"

Rick ran a distracted hand through his hair, finding that a tough question to answer. He felt for the position Daryl was in. Rick had been through it with Shane, someone you loved forcing your hand to a place you never wanted things to go. That whole time Rick had let Shane lead him around in those woods, knowing full well the man intended to kill him, he'd hung onto some kind of slim hope that Shane would come to his senses. Rick had been angry at the man he considered a brother for a long time afterwards that Shane hadn't backed away from his plan to kill him. The truth was though, that confrontation had been boiling for a long time by then. There had been no going back and Shane, in his typical fashion, understood and embraced that more fully than Rick at the time. That had always been Shane's gift and his curse, seeing things in black and white, while the likes of Rick struggled with the infinite shades of gray in between. The trouble with men like Shane and Merle though, was that they always struggled to understand the world around them. Even though they might live as everything being black and white, the simple and ugly truth was that it wasn't and them trying to make it so would only ever end in trauma and loss. Shane had tried to make it simple for Lori. No Rick, then she'd be free to love him and he could have Carl and Lori all to himself. For Shane, in his growing madness of single-minded determination, it had been simple. However, Rick knew that things wouldn't have worked out like he imagined if Shane had been the one to walk away from that field and not RIck. It was obvious to him that Merle was in the same state of mind when it came to Daryl and he simply couldn't see how both men could walk away from this. It had all gone too far and if Daryl didn't kill Merle, then the threat of the other man to the group was too real for Rick to let things stand.

"Dad?"

Carl was still waiting for his answer and Rick grimaced. "Merle is dangerous. One way or the other, he has to be stopped."

Carl nodded slowly. "I know." He screwed up his face. "Poor Daryl."

Rick put his arm around Carl's shoulders. "I know," he said sadly, feeling the weight of what Daryl would be facing. "I know."

**oooOOOOooo**

The shot had sounded so close Daryl actually flinched. He abruptly stopped running and quickly got his bearings before starting to run again. There was no way of knowing if that was gunshot belonged to Merle or not, but instinct had Daryl preparing for the worst. Then the worst happened. The sound of Carol's screams filled the air. The blood ran cold in his veins as he could clearly hear her cries almost in front of him now.

"_Don't touch me... don't touch me... get off me, you son of a bitch!" _

Daryl didn't know if he was hearing Carol trying to fight off a Walker or Merle. Hell, he didn't even know which was worse. All he did know was that Carol needed him and that was all Daryl could think about as he tore up the suddenly inclining ground. He looked up ahead and saw Merle up over to right, standing over the lifeless body of Carol. The rain wasn't quick enough to wash away the blood which was staining her forehead as she lay limp on the ground and not moving. For the first time in his life, Daryl lost his precious self-control completely and utterly. Every emotion surged through him at once as he contemplated being too late and having already lost Carol. A burning anger he'd never known before erupted inside of him as he ran at Merle. Daryl grabbed the unsuspecting Merle by the back of his shirt and flung him away from Carol.

Merle hit the ground hard but was scrambling to stand up just as quickly. "What the hell?!" he growled in surprise. Merle had barely stood up when Daryl threw himself at him, tackling his brother to the ground.

"What did you do?!" he screamed in Merle's face as he straddled him. "What did you do?!" Daryl didn't give the older man a chance to answer him as he punched him hard in the face. The pain in his fist was a welcome relief to the pain currently wracking his entire body. Merle threw a punch at Daryl's face and simultaneously rolled his body, sending Daryl crashing into the mud.

His brother rolled to his feet and shook off Daryl's punch. "Well, there you are, baby brother," he smirked. "What took you so long?"

Merle's cavalier attitude in the wake of seeing Carol's inert form lying in the mud was too much for Daryl. It was dangerous to lose your control around an experienced fighter like Merle, but Daryl was beyond reason. He ran at Merle again and swung a satisfying punch at the older man's face. Merle's head snapped back but he recovered surprisingly quickly and threw out a punch of his own. Daryl felt his lip split but barely registered the pain as he threw punch after punch at his brother. The two men brawled with no finesse, throwing punches, kicking and head butting. Merle had just kicked Daryl in the stomach when the younger man had lost his footing in the slippery mud when Daryl instinctively went for his knife. He pushed himself to his feet, knife held out in front of him and at Merle. The older man's eyes narrowed menacingly and he moved too fast for Daryl, as Merle used the knife attached to the end of his stump to deftly disarm him. The knife skittered through the mud and away from them.

"Don't pull a weapon on me lessin' your serious on usin' it, boy," snarled Merle. "That's how you end up gettin' hurt."

Daryl couldn't imagine being in anymore pain than he was now. He couldn't help but look over at Carol. She hadn't moved an inch since he'd come upon them and Daryl was being forced to face the horrible truth. He looked back at his brother. "Why did you kill her?" he choked out in anguish, voice breaking over the soul-destroying words. "Why, Merle, why did it have to be Carol?" His own words cause fresh anger to course through his body and Daryl ran at Merle, wanting to inflict the kind of pain he was in on the one who'd caused it.

Merle managed to side step him, pushing Daryl down into the ground and sending muddy water flying everywhere. "Simmer down, little brother." Merle barked the order at him. "I ain't hurt her none."

Daryl knew Merle was lying. He'd heard Carol's screams, heard her telling him to leave her alone. He made a guttural sound in the back of his throat, sick of listening to Merle's lies and half-truths. They were all crowding in on Daryl, the weight of them over the years suffocating him and making Daryl claw to be free of them finally. He grabbed up his crossbow and levelled it at Merle's chest, fury etched into every line of his body.

Merle was looking at him in disbelief. "You kiddin' me, boy?" he snapped.

Daryl's jaw hardened. "You killed Carol," he bit out fiercely. The words broke Daryl's heart and he was forced to blink back bitter tears of loss. Merle blurred in front of him because of the unshed tears but Daryl didn't move his crossbow an inch.

"Carol ain't dead," said Merle emphatically. "She's just passed out, is all."

Daryl dared to chance a quick look over at Carol's still unmoving body. He shifted his weight a little uneasily, trying to see through the rain to make out any movement of Carol's chest.

"She ain't dead," said Merle again as he stood there, arms at his side, watching Daryl closely. "I promise you."

Daryl's attention was back on Merle. "And your promises mean so much, don't they, Merle?" he asked bitterly.

Carol chose that moment to give a soft groan as she stirred a little. Relief flooded Daryl's body and threatened to buckle his knees.

"See," said Merle triumphantly. "told you so. Carol's fine."

"She ain't fine!" Daryl snapped. "You hurt her!" He still couldn't believe Merle had done this but then, Daryl didn't know why. Merle had been destroying anything Daryl dared care about for years but this time he'd stupidly hoped things would be different. Grim reality stared Daryl in the face now. Things were never going to be different when it came to Merle. Daryl tightened his grip on his crossbow and pointed it directly at Merle's head.

"Is that how it is, baby brother?" asked Merle angrily. "You ain't got no use for him no more? After all we've been through, the way I was a father to you when our daddy wouldn't."

"You were worse than our daddy!" Daryl yelled. "You said all that you did for me was outta love. At least that old son of a bitch was honest 'bout his hatin' on me. You, you made out all those things you did were you lookin' out for me and bein' a great big brother. That I should thank you for it all!"

"You should thank me for it!" roared Merle. "I made you into a man." He sent Daryl a disdainful look. "Well, I tried, least ways. Lookin' at you, all I see is Rick's bitch."

"When what you really wanted me to be was yours," Daryl threw back bitterly. "I'm my own man now, Merle and you just can't deal with that. You destroy everythin' you touch," he growled, choking back his emotion. "And I ain't gonna let you destroy nuthin' else."

Merle's eyes narrowed. "You givin' up on me, bro? Ain't got no more time for my shit in your life. Havin' me in your life got a little inconvenient all of a sudden?"

A muscle worked overtime in Daryl's jaw as Merle tried to turn this back onto him. That was Merle's speciality, sidestepping responsibility and Daryl was done letting him get away with it. The two men stood on top incline, the tumultuous river frothing below them. It seemed somehow fitting to Daryl that they stood over such a wild and unruly force of nature as he and Merle faced off over a similarly out of control relationship.

Something seemed to snap in Merle when Daryl didn't answer his question. He stepped up, face set in anger and shoved his forehead up against the tip of Daryl's arrow. "You want to end this?" he raged. "Then end it!"

Daryl ground his teeth together and stared Merle down over the small distance which now separated them. He willed himself to squeeze the trigger on his crossbow, to release that bolt Merle had pressed up against his forehead and just let this all be done. Daryl just wanted this to be over, to know what it was to be free of the burden of a fucked up brother like Merle. His muscles shook as a huge internal war waged. All Daryl had to do was move his finger the smallest of amounts and Merle would be put down like the rabid dog everyone had always told him he was. The brothers locked eyes, staring into each other's souls. Daryl could see defiance and anger in Merle's eyes but behind that there was the barest flicker of something else. The pain and sadness Daryl could see in that flicker tightened his chest. There was his brother, behind all the bravado and bullshit. It was the spark of humanity which Merle had fought his whole life to ignore but it was still there. That flicker was where his brother still lived and Daryl couldn't let that go. His shoulders sagged as a broken rasp of a cry left Daryl's lips and he relaxed his finger on the trigger even though his crossbow was still aimed at Merle. His brother was still staring at him, but there was a dawning realisation that Daryl wasn't going to shoot and he looked at little overcome. Merle wasn't a rabid dog, he was Daryl's brother and there was still hope for him to be the man Daryl knew he could be. He couldn't turn his back on him, even though Daryl didn't know where the hell that left them. All he knew was that he couldn't kill his brother. The two men remained frozen in that strange tableau until Merle's rasped a single word.

"Daryl."

Daryl would never know what his brother would have said next because a chunk of water-logged ground gave way underneath Merle's feet and he slipped. On reflex, Merle grabbed at Daryl's arm to steady himself as he started to slide down the hill. The simple action caused Daryl's hand to jerk and without either of them wanting it too, an arrow was released from the crossbow. Merle's eyes went wide as the arrow penetrated his head and sailed out the other side, the force behind the bolt making quick work of bone and brain matter. Both men stared at each other in wide-eyed disbelief at what had just happened.

"Merle," croaked Daryl in distress as a single line of red zig-zagged its way down his brother's face.

Merle looked like he was still trying to work out what had happened. He took a few staggering steps backwards. Meanwhile Daryl was rooted to the spot, frozen in absolute shock. His brother blinked a few times and then took one more step backwards and it was one step too many. Merle had staggered backwards off the edge of the hill to the foaming water below.

"NO!" screamed Daryl in horror, making a lunge for his brother. He threw himself to the ground and grasped out in a panic to try and catch his brother. Daryl's fingers connected with Merle's shirt and he grabbed a hold of the material for dear life. Merle was just a limp rag as he dangled above the drop to the raging river below, the hold Daryl had on him the only thing keeping him from falling any further. Daryl grunted in pain as his muscles strained to hold onto Merle's dead weight. His other hand came out and tried to grab a hold of Merle's arm, trying to find something more solid to hold onto but the action caused Daryl to slip forward and then more of the water-logged ground gave way. Suddenly Daryl felt himself falling too, tumbling down towards the surging brown water even as he refused to let go of Merle. They hit the water together, the icy water cutting through Daryl's flesh as he struggled to hold onto Merle and keep both of their heads above water. He heard Carol scream out his name but then he and Merle were being swept away down river as Daryl fought for both of their lives.


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N****: First of all, something random. **

**I had the rare and happy experience of two fandoms overlapping yesterday. While browsing YT, I found a video for a Hawkeye/Trickshot (Marvel Universe )... with NR as Trickshot, Hawkeyes' brother. It was made of awesome and makes me want to have a movie with these two in it so freakin' bad! I adore both of these actors and they do remind me of each other in a lot of ways – their preference for smaller, Indy type films, the amount of emotion they bring to roles. Anyways, check it out, it's called 'Déjà vu – Clint & Barney' by TatynanaOracle, a very talented vid maker who seems to share a lot of my ships. How lucky is that?! :D Definitely check it out if you think Jeremy Renner or Norman Reedus is hot. ;) **

**Second of all, something factual... **

**This is the longest chapter in this story I've posted so far... and I'm really, really scared about it. So much is riding on it, I can't even begin to find the words. **

**Thirdly, a warning...**

**This chapter has characters depicted in a sexually explicit manner. Now, I've tried to make it tasteful, but the concept is subjective, depending on your own experiences, so, I wanted to warn people as to not offend. I tried to work out a way to separate the actual scenes from the rest of the chapter but it's too hard because it's all woven throughout the chapter. If people want to PM me, I can send them a censured version of this chapter that way. **

**And finally just a comment about the last chapter. It seems I've confused some people about Merle's fate in the last chapter. I'm so sorry about that, but hopefully this chapter will help clear things up a bit... hopefully. **

**Okay, I can't put off letting you read this chapter anymore... I just have to throw it out into the universe and hope for the best. **

**Carry on. . **

**Chapter Forty One**

The first thing Daryl noticed was the sound of the rain still hammering away on what sounded like a tin roof. It was relentless but oddly soothing. The next thing which seeped into his subconsciousness was that he was warm, wonderfully so. He stirred a little and his body complained, pointing out some newly acquired aches and pains to him. Daryl didn't care though, he just wanted to stay wrapped up in all of this cosiness and not think about the cause of his bumps and bruises. Something soft and warm was tickling his face and his eyes flickered open, taking a moment to focus. When he did, it was to see Carol's head lying on a pillow they shared, facing him. She was fast asleep and it was her breath tickling his face. Daryl blinked rapidly, trying to remember how they'd gotten here. It was then he realised that he was dreaming. This kind of peace and contentment didn't exist in the real world. Carol wasn't lying in his bed in the waking world, looking for all the world like she belonged there and always would. Knowing this was a dream now, Daryl relaxed into it. He moved a little under the blanket covering them both and it was then he made a startling realisation. He was naked. Daryl moved again and confirmed his initial assessment. The next realisation had his whole body tensing. Carol was naked too.

Daryl's heartbeat immediately tripled at the discovery just as Carol stirred a little in her sleep. Her leg was between his they both lay on their sides, facing one another. Carol moved restlessly in her sleep, trying to find a more comfortable position on the hard wooden floor. She rolled into Daryl more, seeking out his warmth and Daryl's arm naturally slipped around her waist. The feeling of Carol's breasts being pressed up against his chest sent an uncontrolled shudder through Daryl's body. It felt amazing, too amazing as his body responded to the decidedly female flesh pressed against him. Daryl felt himself harden as a surge of blood headed towards his nether regions. He knew he needed to get himself away from Carol before she woke up and he embarrassed himself with her. Daryl's brain was screaming at him to move, to get away, but his body wasn't listening. Instead he couldn't help but stare at Carol, her face relaxed in sleep and it was then that he remembered.

It was alright, this was just a dream.

Anything could happen in a dream and there weren't going to be real world consequences or awkwardness. Daryl relaxed again, realising he could let himself enjoy the sensation of their entwined naked bodies. Staring at Carol, it occurred to him that he knew her face better than his own. Even before the world went to shit, Daryl had avoided looking at his reflection. He couldn't stand the guy looking back at him. He'd always side-eyed himself and it was a habit he'd taken with him to dealing with other people. Before the dead would come back and even after, Daryl would usually deal with people side on, even when he was throwing down with them, he always had his body in a half-turned away position. Maybe it was because he was always fighting the instinct to run from conflict, even as he engaged in it. It was an old survival instinct from when he couldn't hold his own back when he was a kid. Looking someone square in the eye usually meant you were going to get backhanded across the face. He'd tried that defence tactic with Carol, but she hadn't let him look away. She'd made him look her squarely in the eye when they'd disagreed and didn't flinch away from anything he showed her.

Once Carol had done that with him, it suddenly became easier to look other people in the eye and feel like he had a right to do so. He'd felt it with Rick and the way their relationship had developed. Daryl went in expecting to be listened to and Rick gave him that. It didn't mean they always agreed, but there was a feeling of equality that Daryl had never experienced before. He saw it in himself now when he dealt with people. He'd stand square on, toe to toe and speak his mind without fear of consequences. Belonging to this group had changed everything for him. She'd changed everything for him. Daryl let himself go in the dream and lifted a finger to gently run it down the length of her nose, mesmerised by the small scattering of freckles he could see now there now he was this close. His gaze drifted to Carol's lips, remembering her kisses. It felt like forever since he'd last tasted them and seeing as this was his dream, Daryl didn't see the harm in indulging himself. He brushed his lips against Carol's, delighting in her softness. Something niggled in the back of Daryl's brain when he felt the pain of his split lip, trying to tell him something but he blocked it out, not wanting to know. All Daryl let himself feel was the woman beside him as he tentatively ran the tip of his tongue along Carol's bottom lip. This innocent taste of her was electrifying and Daryl felt his body heat even further. He wanted more, he wanted proper kisses. Daryl pressed his lips more firmly against Carol's, daring in his fantasies to be bolder than he would be in real life. His tongue flicked past her lips, begging for entry even as he felt the tension mounting in his body. Daryl didn't know how a person could be so completely relaxed and utterly tied up in knots at the same time, but he was and it was a kind of perfect hell.

Suddenly Carol was responding to his kisses and Daryl gave a little growl of satisfaction. He prayed he would never wake up again because nothing in the waking world would ever compare to this. Carol returned his kisses tenderly and their languorous kisses made the small pain in Daryl's broken lip from the action so worthwhile. He lifted a hand and cupped the back of Carol's head, thrilling to how real this dream was and praying monsters weren't suddenly going to fill his dreamscape like they always did and take her from him. Daryl broke their kiss and rubbed his nose against hers, delighting in the fact time had no meaning in a dream. A part of Daryl hoped this was death and he could stay wrapped around Carol forever and nothing would ever tear them apart again. The random thought stirred another unwanted memory. He'd been frightened of losing Carol, why was that? Daryl frowned, forcing down the memories which were threatening his cosy little world. He didn't want to think about that, didn't want to do anything but immerse himself in this dream. The real world could wait. The real world could go to hell for all Daryl cared. He let his hand leave the back of Carol's head and drift down the graceful sweep of her back. Daryl had never realised how intoxicating the feel of woman's back could be. The skin was soft and enticing and it made him crave more. Knowing this was his dream to do as he pleased, Daryl dared to move his hand to cup one full bottom cheek. His hand unconsciously tightened on the firm flesh as he swallowed hard and felt his breath hitch at the intimate touch.

Suddenly Carol's blue eyes were open and staring directly into his. Daryl tensed, instantly feeling guilty. He snatched his hand away. "I wasn't-I-ah, I mean-". Daryl blushed, feeling foolish. Even in his dreams he couldn't stop being a bumbling idiot with this kind of thing it seemed.

Carol blinked a couple of times and then searched his face. "Are you alright?" she asked huskily. "How do you feel?"

"Feel?" he repeated unevenly, conscious of his wayward body revealing too much to dream Carol.

"You were half-dead when I pulled you out of the river," said Carol in concern. "You coughed up a swimming pool full of water."

Daryl just stared at her blankly, her words making no kind of sense. A flicker of fear passed over his face as unwanted memories crowded in on him. He wanted to scream at them to leave him alone, that he didn't want them back in his head but it was already too late.

**oooOOOOooo**

"_DARYL!" Carol screamed his name as she watched Daryl and Merle disappear over the ledge and fall into the water below. She'd come to just in time to see Daryl accidentally shoot his brother. The arrow had gone straight through Merle's head and in typical Merle fashion, it hadn't killed him straight away. Merle had seemed as shocked as anyone else as he fought for understanding of what had just happened. Not all head shots were instantly fatal and Merle was proving that. Carol had watched Daryl desperately try and save Merle, even though there was no way he could. That was just how things were between the brothers. Daryl always hopeful, Merle always inevitable. "No!" she sobbed, struggling to her feet despite her hands still being bound behind her back. Carol rushed to the edge of the overhang and desperately looked around. She could see Daryl's further down the river, desperately trying to keep Merle's head above water but the water was moving so fast the younger Dixon was having a world of trouble just hanging onto the older man. _

_Carol whirled around, desperately looking for something to free herself with. She almost immediately spied Daryl's knife on the ground and she rushed over to it. Dropping to her knees, Carol turned her back to the knife and hurriedly tried to pick it up. It seemed to take forever as she fumbled blindly around in the mud but then her hand contacted the cold metal and she was feverishly using it to cut her bonds off. Working at the awkward angle, it was hard to cut her way through the phone cords as quickly as she wanted. Carol was conscious every second ticking by was another second of Daryl being swept further away from her. As if that wasn't bad enough, as Carol frantically worked on her getting free, a Walker staggered out of the trees. "Oh come on!" she growled in frustration, straining hard on ties now, despite the pain it caused her. The Walker was almost on her, snarling in hunger and oblivious to the rain when Carol finally cut herself free. With the knife still in hand she leapt to her feet and drove the weapon up under the creatures chin, feeling it pierce brain. The Walker crumbled to the ground as Carol shook it off her knife. _

_Turning around, she bolted along the ledge, following the flow of the river and hoping to catch Daryl up. Carol slipped several times, mainly because her eyes were desperately searching the river, looking for a sign of Daryl and not watching where she was going. "Please, God," she prayed under her breath, not even knowing she was doing it, "please, God, don't take him, not now, not like this." The ground beneath her feet was sloping down again and Carol actually slid part of the way down and then she was on flatter ground, running alongside the frothing, muddy water. "Daryl!" She called out his name, knowing it was a risk and probably a waste of time over the roar of the hurtling water. "Daryl!" Carol could feel the panic welling up in her as she tried not to contemplate the chances of anyone being able to fight their way out of this kind of fast-flowing water with all of its rocks and branches to pound a body onto. She swallowed her fear and kept looking, knowing she couldn't give up. Carol continued to run along the river and as she rounded a curve, she caught a flash of familiar khaki. Her breath hitched as she saw a half-drowned looking Daryl caught up on some branches, his head barely above the water as it raced by him. She ran over to where he was, managing to climb out on some rocks to get to him. "Daryl!" she said urgently, grabbing at his arm and tugging on it. "Come on, you need to get out of here." That observation seemed fairly obvious but Daryl looked to be almost completely out of it. _

"_Merle," he rasped weakly. _

_Carol grimaced. "He's gone, Daryl, there is nuthin' you can do now." She pulled harder on his arm. "Come on, grab holda this branch, I'll help pull you out." It took a few more repeats of her order to get the befuddled Daryl to comply. The water was freezing and he looked like he'd been pummelled hard on those rocks. It was a miracle Daryl was even still alive. Using strength Carol didn't even know she possessed, she managed to pull the flailing Daryl out of the water. She half-dragged him along the rocks and then they both collapsed onto the wet ground beside the river, breathing heavily. Daryl rolled over and heaved up muddy water from his stomach, vomiting the brown mess out onto the ground as Carol rubbed his back, trying to comfort him. _

_Daryl was shaking uncontrollably as he looked at her blearily when he could finally speak again. "Carol," he gasped, "oh God, Carol, I thought you were dead." _

"_I'm not dead," she said quickly. "It's okay, everythin' is gonna be okay." Carol grimaced, knowing Daryl wasn't in any fit state to talk but she had to know. "Carl, did you find Carl?" _

_He blinked at her, as though the words confused him. "Carl?" _

"_Yes, he went for help, did he find you?" _

_Daryl nodded slowly. "He's-he's with Rick," he slurred, eyelids drooping. _

_Relief surged through Carol even as she panicked a little. She grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly. "Don't go to sleep!" she ordered him fiercely. "We have to find some shelter." That seemed like an impossible order but Carol knew she couldn't let Daryl pass out on the wet ground in the freezing rain. He probably wouldn't wake up again. Through a series of cajoles and threats, Carol managed to get Daryl on his feet, albeit leaning heavily on her. They lurched through the woods, away from the river as Carol looked desperately for some kind of shelter to try and keep Daryl warm. It was the miracle Carol had been praying for when they suddenly staggered into a clearing and in front of them was a small wooden cabin. With a quick look around for Walkers, Carol was dragging Daryl towards their salvation. They lurched inside the small building and the relief at being out of the rain was overwhelming. Carol hastily looked around, taking in their surroundings. A mattress was on the floor and she guided the unsteady Daryl towards it. He dropped to his knees just as they reached it and Carol simply pushed him the rest of the way. Daryl landed with a heavy thud on the dusty padding and promptly passed out. Carol grabbed up the two blankets which were thrown in the corner and quickly set about stripping the clothes from Daryl's body. The saturated material was going to do nothing to keep him warm. When she was done, Carol hastily covered him in the blankets before stripping herself naked and joining him under the blankets. She wrapped her body around Daryl's uncontrollably shaking body, willing her body heat to work quickly and warm the freezing man up. Carol held onto him tightly, trying to let Daryl know she was there as she frantically tried to save his life. _

**oooOOOOooo**

Abruptly memories flooded back to him about what had happened. Merle's face as he disappeared over the edge of the cliff, Daryl desperately trying to grab a hold of him, the raging water knocking his body against rocks and the darkness which followed. "Merle," he rasped, stricken he hadn't remembered his brother's fate immediately, even if he had thought it all a dream.

Carol's expression was one of great sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Daryl."

"He's dead," whispered Daryl, hot tears escaping his eyes and sliding down his face before he could stop them. "I killed him."

"No," said Carol quickly, cupping his face, "you didn't kill him, Daryl. Merle forced your hand, what happened was an accident."

Some part of Daryl knew Carol was right. The old saying about an accident waiting to happen was meant for Merle. For all of his life, that was what Merle was, an accident waiting to happen. Daryl could see that now but it didn't lessen his feelings of loss and desolation. He missed his brother and this world felt a little bigger and scarier without Merle in it, even though the older Dixon sibling brought his share of monsters to the table. Merle was Daryl's brother. The last of his kin and he was gone. Seeing as he had been intent on killing Merle not so long ago, Daryl wasn't prepared for the waves of pain that knowledge brought him.

Carol was wiping away Daryl's tears with her thumb. "You did everythin' you could to save Merle," she said huskily. "No brother could have done more."

Daryl wanted to believe her but didn't know if he could.

"I think some part of Merle wanted to be a lost cause," continued on Carol quietly.

"Why?" asked Daryl in anguish. "Why would anyone want that?"

Carol's face was very serious as they lay in each other's arms, almost nose to nose. "I think he thought that was all he deserved." She frowned. "It seemed to me Merle was intent on punishin' himself for some past wrongs and he couldn't let anyone get in the way of that." Carol's expression soften compassionately. "Not even you."

Daryl was glad Carol didn't offer up any platitudes that he wouldn't always feel Merle's loss so acutely, that the pain of how his brother had died would lessen in time. It might have been true, but that relief was too far in the future to be of any use to him now. Daryl wanted to rail against the futility of it all, the waste of a life that didn't need to have happened. "I couldn't hold onto him," he rasped painfully, guilt etching his features while not even knowing himself if he meant in the fast-flowing water or just in life in general. Merle had slipped through his fingers, no matter how hard Daryl had tried to hang onto him.

"Maybe it was time to let him go," said Carol simply. "For both of you. Maybe Merle has finally found some peace."

Daryl's expression hardened. "You don't really believe that, do you?" Somehow he didn't think God would be too interested in finding a place for the likes of Merle Dixon.

Carol's voice was soft and tender. "I think Merle isn't in anymore pain, probably for the first time in his life."

Daryl screwed his face up in pain. "But he left me behind," he said achingly, "again."

"And thank God he did," said Carol with heart-felt emotion. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost you in that river."

Daryl looked at her and was suddenly conscious of their nakedness again as Carol looked at him with those emotion-filled blue eyes. He felt his body stir again, uncaring of his emotional turmoil and Daryl knew that he was about to make a fool of himself. "I-ah-my clothes-" he rasped, trying to work out how to move away from Carol without her noticing his arousal. Hard for a naked man to do really. She'd probably think he was sick to be in this state while mourning his brother but apparently his body was working independently of his brain all of a sudden.

"I took them off," Carol explained. "We were both soaked through. It was the only way to warm you up. You were freezing after nearly drowning and naked bodies conduct heat better than clothed ones."

Daryl was painfully aware of that fact as the heat rolled off his body, thanks to the way his blood was currently coursing through his veins. It was that exact coursing problem which had him in desperate need to cover himself up and put some distance between the two of them.

"Our clothes are over there."

Carol inclined her head and Daryl twisted his around to see their clothes laid out on the floor. He looked back at Carol, trying not to blush as he imagined her stripping the clothes from his body. It didn't work as he felt his cheeks heat and it certainly didn't help his downstairs situation either.

Carol was smiling ever so slightly. "Do you want me to go and get them for you?" She went to sit up and Daryl was treated to the first tantalising glimpse of a naked breast but then he was grabbing her arm to push her down again, not sure he could handle seeing Carol completely naked. The hold on his self-control felt tenuous enough has it was. "No!" he said sharply.

"Ow!" Carol gave a little yelp of pain and Daryl immediately loosened his grip on her.

"What is it?" he asked urgently. "What's wrong?" Daryl knew his hold had only been a gentle one. Suddenly it all came back to him how he'd found Merle standing over Carol's unconscious body and fear curled inside of him as to what his brother might have done to her while Daryl was racing to find them.

Carol gave a little grimace. "It's nothin'. Just my shoulder. Merle accidentally dislocated it. He put it back in, but it's still sore."

Daryl struggled to ask the next question. A muscle in his cheek twitched as he fought for control. "Did-did he hurt you? I mean, did he do anythin'-"

"No," said Carol quickly. "No, Daryl. Merle wasn't lookin' to hurt me or Carl."

Daryl closed his eyes as relief rushed through him that Merle hadn't taken that sadistic streak out on Carol. A fear niggled away at him that maybe she wasn't telling him everything but Daryl had no choice but to believe what Carol was telling him. He needed to believe it. "No," he ground out. "Merle was just lookin' to hurt me."

"That wasn't how he saw it."

Daryl kept his eyes closed as he fought with the conflicting feelings his brother always brought up in him, even in death it seemed. "But it's how it was."

"I know," said Carol with quiet regret. "You just had to know that Merle loved you, Daryl, more than anyone else in the world." She sighed. "He just wasn't really great at loving people but that wasn't his fault." Carol's expression was full of empathy. "You both deserved better." She moved and closed the tiny distance between them, her lips brushing his. "So much better," Carol whispered before kissing him.

Daryl knew it was a bad idea for Carol to be kissing him again, now that they were both fully awake. He had no kind of defence against the solace she was offering him. If anyone could make this horror of loss go away it would be Carol. She'd put her hand over this gaping wound in his heart and make the pain dissipate. Daryl returned her kisses eagerly, wanting to blot out everything but her, even as he had this growing fear about where this was heading. He didn't know anything about physical intimacy, what you were supposed to do, what the right moves were. That thought terrified him but even through his fear, Daryl found himself still drawn into the warm web Carol's touch was weaving around him. Her hand drifted down his back, fingers lightly dragging over the scarred flesh and Daryl's skin couldn't help but twitch under the gentle caress. It was like electricity was flowing from her body to his and sensitising every one of his nerve endings. Carol settled more fully against him and Daryl forgot himself, welcoming her softness fitting themselves against the hard lines of his body. However, when his now straining manhood was suddenly pressed up against Carol's thigh, he panicked, scared of what Carol might do. He pulled back, a new blush heating his cheeks as he looked at her, embarrassed by his rampant body and scared of Carol's reaction. She'd teased him that time in the crawl space when his body had gotten the best of him. So much had happened since then, Daryl didn't know if Carol would be disgusted this time round. Daryl braced himself for her rejection.

Carol held his gaze steadily and there was no teasing or rejection in those blue eyes as she took in his most likely obvious fear. "It's alright," she whispered, "it's just me." She moved to kiss him again, lips brushing his. "It's just me."

Daryl felt some of the tension leave his body as Carol offered him more of the sweetness of her kisses. Her hand was on his lower back now, fingernails scratching lightly back and forth and sending little fissures of pleasure through Daryl's body. Carol's hand swept along his thigh and then she was confidently moving between their bodies. Suddenly her hand was wrapping it around Daryl's swollen length and squeezing. He and his hard on jerked wildly. Daryl made a strangled cry into their kiss, sensations rioting through his body. Carol didn't stop kissing him though and Daryl's first impulse to run was almost immediately swamped by the intense pleasure Carol was causing throughout his entire system. Daryl groaned into their kiss as the blood pounded through his veins. He was losing all control of his body, he could feel it. He grabbed for Carol's hand, needing her to stop her delicious torment but it was already too late. The intense sensation sweeping his body abruptly rose to a crescendo and he was climaxing violently. He broke their kiss, choking out his regret against Carol's neck, even as he couldn't contain the moans of pleasure. Daryl shuddered against Carol, his entire body shaking until he was finally done.

He didn't want to look at her, the horror and embarrassment from previous encounters flooding back to him as he braced himself for Carol's disappointment or even mockery. This had been Daryl's worst fear and it had happened. He hadn't wanted it to be like this, not for them and the shame threatened to overwhelm him. Daryl turned abruptly away from her, presenting his hunched back to Carol and fighting against the urge to simply run as fast and far as he could. It seemed to Daryl he'd rather take his chances, naked, in the middle of a Walker-filled forest, than have to look Carol in the eye ever again. He prayed for death. Daryl flinched when he felt Carol's first touch. It was the caress of her lips against his back and he stiffened.

Carol wasn't put off though. She kissed along his back, making her way to Daryl's neck and nibbling along its length until she was at his ear. "Roll over," she ordered him huskily.

Fear battled with desire for Daryl as he tried to work out what to do. He slowly rolled back onto his back, eyes sliding away to the side to avoid looking Carol in the eye. Daryl gnawed on the inside of his mouth, a nervous tic as he waited on Carol to deliver a carefully worded speech of pitying understanding to him. Now Daryl really did wish this was a dream so he could wake up and know that he hadn't humiliated himself in front of Carol.

"I want you."

Daryl's eyes flicked to hers, wide with shock. Had he just heard that right? Carol still wanted him, even after what had just happened.

Carol was looking at him closely. "Do you want me?" There was the slightest waver in her voice as she asked the question, quietly belaying the calm persona she was portraying.

Daryl was still staring at her, emotion choking his voice.

"Because we can stop now," she said quietly. "Nothing has to change between us, Daryl, not if you don't want it to."

This was it, this was the moment Daryl had been both dreading and longing for. They were on the precipice of risking all that they had for something as yet undefined. Daryl was having difficulty breathing as he let himself truly entertain his desires for the first time when it came to Carol. He did want her, so badly, but he was scared what that meant for him and for Carol.

Carol must have been able to see his dilemma written in his face. "No matter what happens," she said huskily, "I'm not going anywhere, Daryl. You're not going to lose me."

Daryl gave a groan of relief at hearing the words he hadn't even known he'd been waiting for. "I want-" he rasped, finding talking difficult with the way his throat was constricting. "I want-"

When he didn't manage to get the word out, Carol helped. "Me?" she breathed, the tiniest note of hope in her voice.

"You," he agreed raggedly, desire finally edging out fear in that moment.

Carol smiled. "Good," she said throatily and then was kissing him again.

Soon Carol was breaking off their heated kisses and trailing her mouth down his body. Daryl arched his back as she teased her way down his chest and stomach, seeming to find every nerve ending along the way. Daryl's spent manhood was quickly finding a new life with Carol's touches and then she was taking him into her mouth. He drew in a pained breath of delight, propping himself up on his elbows as he watched Carol deftly pleasure him with amazement. She was managing to wring sensations from his body Daryl hadn't known possible. He threw his head back and moaned loudly up to the heavens. Daryl gave himself over to Carol, let her take control completely as his increasingly laboured breathing filled the small cabin. He squeezed his eyes close and dropped back onto the pillow. Daryl lost himself in Carol's ministrations, wanting this to go on forever but Carol had other ideas. His eyes flew open and an innate cry of loss was wrenched from his lips when Carol stopped. Daryl looked up to see Carol straddling his body and his breath caught in his throat at how beautiful she looked. Daryl was at full attention when Carol reached between their bodies and slowly sank down on him. She bit her lip and gave a strangled cry while Daryl forgot how to breathe. The feeling of Carol's wet heat encasing him was almost too much. He clutched at her thighs and couldn't stop himself from thrusting wildly up into her, his body reacting on instinct.

"Wait," Carol gasped unevenly, putting her hands on his chest, "give me a moment." She half-smiled. "It's been awhile."

Daryl flushed, hating his inexperience yet again and scared he'd hurt her. Carol leant forward and started kissing him before he could begin obsessing about it. The simple intimacy relaxed them both. She started to move on top of him, rolling her hips around on his hardness and Daryl couldn't contain another moan into their kiss.

Carol straightened up and increased the speed of the rhythm of their bodies as her hands covered his still holding on tightly to her thighs. "Am I hurting you?" she asked breathlessly.

Daryl's body was a mass of bruises and cuts thanks to his fight with Merle and impromptu white water ride but in that moment Daryl didn't think he'd notice if someone set him on fire. "No," he rasped shakily, "don't stop." Daryl's eyes were large and pleading. "Don't stop."

Carol bit her bottom lip and looked pleased at hearing the desperation in his voice. She took one of his hands and placed it on her naked breast, causing a strangled sound to escape Daryl's lips. Her softness filled his palm and Daryl moaned loudly at the sensation, feeling a shudder go through his body. Carol skilfully set the pace for their bodies and Daryl just followed her lead, amazed with how easily they fell into the same rhythm with one another. Daryl had feared he'd be awkward and useless but this felt like the most natural thing in the weird. The tension between them grew as Carol rode him harder and harder, until he didn't think he could take it anymore. Daryl could feel his whole body building towards an inevitable end. He both craved it and dreaded it, not wanting this bliss to end. Both of their ragged breathing filled the air as Carol moved forward, placing her hands on either side Daryl's face so they were now face to face. The friction between their bodies reached fever pitch. Sweat dripped from his body as Carol's became covered in a sheen of perspiration which seemed to make her almost glow to his eyes. Daryl felt like she was consuming him completely, absorbing him into her body and he surrendered himself to his fate eagerly. His hands clutched at her hips, feeling his end closing in on him and praying he could last just long enough to satisfy Carol. Suddenly Carol tensed and then she was convulsing wildly on top of him.

"Fuck!" Daryl screamed, unable to help the expletive leaving his lips as he experienced a woman's climax for the first time. It pushed him over his own edge, free-falling into the oblivion of the most intense orgasm of his life. He bucked wildly underneath Carol, the two of them clinging to each other as they became the only two creatures in existence for a shining few seconds. Carol collapsed on top of him as Daryl rode out the last convulsions of his release. They lay there, both panting in each other's arms and struggling to draw in air to their oxygen deprived lung. A kind of euphoria settled on Daryl and it made all of his extremities turn to lead and become unmoveable. It was Carol who somehow managed to roll off him and fall to one side. For a moment Daryl panicked and thought she might be leaving him and he couldn't stand it. "No," he groaned, rolling over and placing his head on her chest, hands grabbing at Carol's hips to stop her from moving any further away from him. She responded by wrapping her arms around him, silently letting Daryl know she wasn't going anywhere. His muscles relaxed again and Daryl lay there, listening to Carol's heart beating beneath his ear and slowly returning to a normal speed. Daryl felt utterly relaxed, not even stressing over what he should say next. He was too happy to worry right now. Happy and incredibly content. He didn't know how long they lay there for, Carol stroking his hair, him listening to her heart beat while the sweat dried on his body. Daryl didn't care. He'd happily stay in this cabin for the rest of his life, just him and Carol, pretending the rest of the world with all of its complications didn't exist.

Carol stirred, apparently not sharing his desire. She ran her hand through his still sweaty hair. "We should head back to the prison. People will be worried," she offered up quietly.

Daryl gave a grunt, thoroughly disinclined to move, possibly ever again. His whole body was still throbbing with a post-climactic haze and he didn't want to let Carol's softness out from underneath him. Carol had other ideas though, as she wiggled a little and made him lift his head.

"We have to go," she chastised him indulgently, slipping out from underneath him.

"Still rainin'," observed Daryl, watching her through half-closed eyes as Carol stood up.

"It's eased up some though," said Carol, walking over to her clothes.

Daryl lay on his side, freely enjoying the sight of Carol walking around so confidently while buck naked. He'd never spent much time openly enjoying a woman's body because of the complications it would end up causing. It was an amazing feeling to have such an intimate knowledge of Carol's body now and know that no one else left alive had seen her the way Daryl just had.

Carol looked over her shoulder at him as she pulled on her pants and did up the buttons. "You gettin' up, lazy bones?"

"Mm," murmured Daryl disinterestedly, "maybe."

Carol was doing up her bra. "I'm not sure how long we slept for. Rick and the others will be lookin' for us." She sent him a concerned look. "And you were sure Carl is okay?"

"He's fine."

Carol blew out a long breath. "Good. I was scared for him, unarmed out in those woods."

Daryl thought about telling Carol about Michonne, but couldn't be bothered. He didn't want to talk about other people right now.

"Come on, up."

Daryl sent her a vaguely annoyed look. "Bossy."

"You like that about me."

He fought back a smile. "I do?"

"You do," said Carol firmly as she took a seat on the mattress beside him and reached for her shoes.

Daryl was quietly amazed at how easy things were between them considering what had just happened. He was grateful Carol wasn't pressing him for more right then because Daryl was already feeling pretty overwhelmed with the enormity of what they'd just done. He was tempted to ask how Carol was feeling but then thought better of it, in case he didn't like the answer. Instead Daryl scanned the small cabin. "Where's my crossbow?"

"Oh, sorry," said Carol mockingly, "I guess between having to untie myself, fight off a Walker, pull you out of a raging river, drag you to safety and stop you dying from hypothermia, I must have forgotten to go back and get your crossbow."

Daryl sat up. "Apology accepted," he said, straight-faced.

Carol rolled her eyes as she teased him. "He won't get out of bed to let the people we care about know where okay, but his crossbow, it's all hands on deck."

Daryl went to stand up and then remembered he was still naked. He made a hasty grab for the blanket and clutched it around him.

Carol eyed his latent modesty with some amusement. "You do remember I've already seen your boy bits, right?" she said, fighting a smile. "Up close and personal, in fact."

Daryl knew he was blushing again, could feel his cheeks heat painfully. "Yeah, well, I ain't givin' it away free every time," he said gruffly, trying to match her teasing.

Carol laughed. "You ain't that kinda girl, is that it?"

Daryl hurried over and grabbed his pants, quickly managing to pull them on before dropping the blanket. "Yeah, that's right," he sassed her back.

"Well," drawled Carol, giving him a considered, if still amused, look, "that's a shame."

Daryl's heart immediately skipped a beat and then went into overdrive at the way Carol was looking at him, fumbling as his suddenly clumsy fingers struggled to do up the top button of his pants. He couldn't stop staring at her, feeling renewed desire course through his body. Was this normal? Daryl didn't know and frankly, he didn't care. He glanced over his shoulder at the door behind him and then back to Carol. "I think the rain is gettin' heavier again," he said unevenly, holding her gaze. "Maybe we should hold off a bit longer." Daryl thought he saw an answering spark of desire in Carol's eyes at the suggestion but then her eyes suddenly went wide and there was a look of abject horror on her face and that was the last thing Daryl saw before his head exploded in pain and everything went black...

**A/N****: And there you have it, faithful reader, I went there. After much deliberation with the muse and lengthy back and forth I decided to have Caryl make love. I wanted it to be highly emotional more than simply physical because of what they've been through and who they are. These pay off chapters are always incredibly nerve-wracking because you end up hanging a lot on them, even though you don't want to. You can't help it. I know this coming together won't be to everyone's tastes, and I respect that. It's how I, personally, see the characters I've been evolving in this fic and my understanding of Carol and Daryl as individuals. I tried to make it not smooth and slick but more real and human. These kinds of chapters are always hard to put out there, so it always takes a bit of donning of the big girl panties to go there. **

**Anyways, yes, I left you on a cliffhanger... Aunty Lou gives and she takes away. As it should be. Hopefully you're not put off checking out everything that happens next... :)**


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N****: First of all, many apologies for the delay for this chapter. I've had company staying so writing was out of the question and work is still consuming most of my brain matter these days (only 8 more days until a day off – wahoo!), so getting this chapter done was mission impossible for a good while there. **

**Second of all thank you to all for the great support of the last chapter. I'm it wasn't hated and I appreciate all the feedback you kindly gave me. :D **

**Now, onto this chapter. I have to admit, this is another one I'm nervous about because basically it's the culmination of my original idea for this story. It's do or die time, folks. I won't witter on about it, just let you read and see what you make of the whole thing. **

**I'll catch you on the other side... see you soon. :D**

**Chapter Forty Two**

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple."  
_Oscar Wilde_

_The Importance of Being Earnest_

The pounding pain in Daryl's head forced him back into consciousness as he struggled to open his eyes. He tried to remember what had happened even as he took in the fact his hands were bound behind his back and tied to something which was keeping him upright as he sat on the floor. Daryl's eyes blinked open as he blearily tried to focus.

"Daryl."

Carol's concerned voice gave him something to hone in on and he turned his head, squinting at the blur in the corner not far from him. "Carol?" he croaked and then stiffened as he remembered the sharp blow to the back of his head. Someone had attacked them. Daryl's head snapped round he immediately saw the man casually leaning against the door to the cabin. Daryl's eyes widened in disbelief. "Merle?" he gasped.

Merle smiled at him. "In the flesh, baby brother." A damp Merle was standing there, minus his prosthetic device but the rest of him was definitely there.

He must have lost his prosthetic hand in the water but that was the least of the questions crowding Daryl's stunned mind. Merle had taken an arrow to the head at close quarters. How could this be happening? Maybe he was still dreaming after all. Daryl's brain scrambled to work out what he was seeing. "You-you're-how?" His words fell over one another as he tried to make sure this wasn't another dream.

Merle pushed himself away from the door and cocked his head at Daryl. "You seem surprised to see me, bro," he said casually. "How come? You came lookin' for me, didn't you?"

Daryl looked over at Carol. She gave him a helpless look, sharing his confusion. Daryl dragged his gaze back to Merle and this time took in the wound in the older man's head. It was a neat circle of an injury with some bruising around the entrance point from Daryl's arrow. He was a little bit frightened to see what the back of Merle's head might look like. "Are-are you alright?" asked Daryl hesitantly. He was still in too much shock to know how he felt about seeing his brother again when he'd given up all hope.

Merle blinked and scratched his grizzled beard with a distracted finger. "Yeah, I guess, got a bit of a headache." He smacked his lips together. "And I got the taste of bacon in my mouth." Merle shrugged. "Don't know what that's bout."

Daryl suspected it might have something to do with the fact an arrow had recently gone through Merle's brain. Obviously not enough of the brain was damaged to have killed him outright and maybe the cold water they'd fallen into had helped slow blood loss but even so, Daryl was still having trouble was believing what he was seeing. He'd heard story like this before but thought that all they were, stories. Apparently not. Merle had not only survived an arrow going through his head, but he'd also managed to drag himself out of that raging river somehow. Daryl had always known his brother was tough, but this was taking things to an almost unholy level. He had to wonder if there was anything left of his brother in that traumatised brain of Merle's. Daryl had always known Merle's limits, but the man standing in front of him, he wasn't so sure. He and Carol were most likely in a lot of danger because Merle was not in his right mind after all he'd been through. Daryl cast an anxious eye over Carol, eyes running over her body to check if Merle had already hurt her while he'd been knocked out.

"I'm okay," she reassured him quickly.

Merle snorted. "Course sassy mouth's okay," he said, sounding a little indignant. "Why wouldn't she be?"

"Cause you nearly caved my skull in," said Daryl, trying to fight his way through how surreal all of this was.

"I only tapped you," said Merle dismissively. "Besides, you pushed me offa cliff."

"No, I didn't." Daryl eyed him warily. "Do-do you remember what happened?"

Merle screwed up his face and looked to be thinking hard. "We were fightin'."

"And?"

"And somethin' happened," said Merle, looking like he was having trouble remembering. "You pushed me."

"Daryl grabbed you," Carol corrected him quickly. "He tried to save you after you walked backwards over the ledge."

Merle looked sceptical. "Now, why would I have done that? I ain't stupid."

"You got hurt," Carol gently pushed him. "Remember?"

Merle lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, accidentally putting a finger in the hole in his head. Both Daryl and Carol flinched at the gruesome sight of Merle's finger disappearing up to his first knuckle joint into the wound. Merle looked surprised. "What the hell? Was that always there?"

"Don't poke at it," said Carol sharply. "You're hurt, Merle. You have to untie us and let us help you."

Merle grunted. "It's just a scratch."

Daryl shook his head, still in shock. "It really ain't, bro."

"I'm fine," said a dismissive Merle. "The important thing is now we're all here we can get down to business." He nodded approvingly at Daryl. "I knew you'd find us here."

Merle was getting confused about the order of events but Daryl had guessed the cabin was where Merle had been taking Carol in the first place when he started following their tracks from the cave. The fact that Carol had found the cabin too was nothing short of a miracle. However, that miracle had turned sour with Merle's sudden appearance. Daryl had been mourning his brother and lamenting that he wouldn't get a second chance to make peace with Merle. Now he was suddenly getting that second chance, but Merle didn't seem to be exactly right in the head. Little wonder considering the trauma his brain had gone through. Daryl could only guess at how much longer Merle had before he succumbed to his injuries. He hated that he was suddenly in the position of hoping for Merle's demise when all Daryl had ever wanted to do was save him. "Okay, I'm here," he said quickly, "just like you wanted. There is no need for Carol to be here anymore. Let her go and then-"

"Are you stupid, boy?" asked Merle in annoyance. "Her bein' here is the whole point."

Daryl scowled, feeling his stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, it's time to make a chicken," said Merle flatly. He frowned. "Is that right? That-that ain't right." Merle's brow furrowed as he struggled to find the word he was looking for.

Daryl looked over at Carol and she looked back at him, biting her bottom lip and shaking her head.

"Choice!" said Merle loudly, making them both start. "You gotta make a choice, little brother." He blew out a loud breath and nodded to himself, obviously pleased to have found the right word. "At least, that's what I thought when I started all this. Now I know dif-different." Merle was having trouble with his words, stumbling over them and slurring a little. "I can't make you do that, boy. I know you, you've got too soft of a heart to hurt one of us intentional like."

"So, you've changed your mind?" Daryl quizzed him hesitantly. "You're gonna let us go?" Merle was all over the place.

Merle grinned. "Nah, I'm gonna do better than that. I'm not gonna make you chose nuthin'. It'll be up to fate." He reached behind his back and pulled out the gun which must have been stuck into the back of his trousers. Merle held it up and nodded approvingly before pushing out the chamber and shaking out the bullets into his hand. He let all the bullets drop except for one and returned it to the chamber. "Time to finish this once and-and for all," he slurred. Merle spun the barrel of the gun and snapped it shut. He blinked at Daryl, looking to be trying to focus. "You can't have both of us in your life and make it work. One of us has-has to go and I'm gonna make it easy."

A cold fear was working its way through Daryl's body. "Merle, what are you doin'?" He was afraid he already knew the answer to his own question. Daryl twisted his hands behind his back, desperate to get free and stop what he was afraid was about to happen.

Merle looked over at Carol. "You know we have to-to do this, right?"

Daryl could see the fear creeping onto Carol's face, even though she was working hard not to show it. "No, Merle," she said calmly, "we don't have to do anythin'. You can stop this right now."

Merle shook his head and looked sad. "It's too late. I told you that already. This is how it has-has to be, how it was always gonna be." He half-smiled. "Age before beauty, sassy mouth." Before either Daryl or Carol could react, Merle put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

Daryl flinched at the sound of the empty chamber clicking against the hammer. Horror made him shout. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled. "Merle, what the hell are you doin'?!"

Merle looked a little surprised that he was still alive. He looked at the gun in his hand and blinked. "Okay, then," he muttered then turned the gun on Carol. The gun wobbled a little in Merle's hand, but at this range he didn't need to be a good shot. Carol cowered back in the corner, shaking her head at him, eyes wide with terror.

"Stop it!" shouted Daryl, his heart practically pounding out of his chest. "Merle, NO!" He started violently at the sound of the hammer hitting another empty chamber.

Carol made a distressed choking sound and started to shake as she escaped a bullet to the face... for now.

Daryl hated seeing her so afraid but he knew his own face must mirror her panic. "Merle," he rasped, "you fuck!"

"Quit your mullin', bro," said Merle dismissively. "No one's dead yet. Four more bullets to go still. It's anyone's game."

"This ain't a game!" said Daryl fiercely. "You can't do this, Merle. Carol ain't never done anythin' to you. She don't deserve this." He frantically tried to reason with his brother. Deep down Daryl knew Merle didn't want to hurt Carol. He just had to get the other man to realise that.

Merle cocked his head quizzically at Daryl. "This ain't a punishment," he said in surprise. "This is just how it has to be."

"Why, Merle?" asked Carol unsteadily, her face pale. "Why do you have to do this?"

He scowled at her. "I already told you."

Daryl gritted his teeth. Merle wasn't making any kind of sense, even if the other man thought he was. "You want to put a gun to someone's head, do it to me," he bit out. "Leave Carol outta this."

Merle side-eyed him. "Now, that don't make no sense. What would be the point of that?" Without waiting for an answer, Merle lifted the gun and rested it against his temple and pulled the trigger. Once again the hammer hit an empty chamber.

Daryl drew in a ragged breath. He didn't know what to hope for. Daryl didn't want Merle to blow his brains out in front of him but he sure as hell didn't want his brother to kill Carol either. A muscle twitched in his cheek as he held Merle's gaze with steely determination. "Don't do it," he said, voice low and threatening. "God damn you, Merle. Don't you point that gun at her again."

Merle sighed heavily and looked unhappy, almost like he was doing this against his will. "I gotta, bro. Thems the rules and you gotta follow the rules."

Daryl strained mightily against the bindings tying him to the wooden beam. He managed to get up onto his knees, leaning forward as far as he could. The torn up blanket cut into his wrists but Daryl barely even noticed. All he could think about was getting free and stopping this madness. "No!" he shouted in a panic as Merle levelled his gun at Carol again. "No, Merle, stop it, stop it!" Daryl's cries were ignored as Merle's attention was all on Carol.

"I'm rootin' for you, sassy mouth," said Merle unevenly.

"Merle, please," whispered Carol, shaking her head at him as tears filled her eyes. "Please, no."

"It's okay," he soothed her. "It'll be over real quick. You won't feel a thing. I promise."

Daryl was still trying to get free. He kicked out at Merle, trying to get his attention away from Carol. "Leave her alone, you son of a bitch!"

Merle pulled back the hammer of his gun and squeezed the trigger. Daryl stared at Carol in horror, bracing himself for the worst but no sound of a bullet leaving a chamber filled the cabin. Carol slumped back against the wall, face deathly pale. Daryl drew in ragged breaths of relief and blinked the sweat out of his eyes. He squeezed his eyes closed and groaned. "Fuck," he said raggedly, thanking anyone who might be listening that Carol was still alive. Daryl didn't want either Merle or Carol dead, but Merle wasn't going to survive forever with that kind of head injury while there was still a chance for Carol. Merle was already dead, his body just didn't know it yet. Trust his brother to even do the whole undead thing his own way. Everything always had to be on Merle's own fucking terms. The thought made Daryl give a frustrated grunt. How did they even get here? Daryl had thought a zombie apocalypse was fucked up. This felt even worse because it felt like Daryl should have been able to stop it all from happening somehow.

"Alright," said Merle happily. "Now it's a party." He grinned down at Carol, taking in the way she was still shaking. "Buck up, woman," Merle ordered her jovially, "you're one step closer to winnin' this thing."

"Nobody is going to win this thing," said Carol darkly, her expression hardening. "You have to know that, Merle."

"I know what I know what I know," rambled Merle. "And that's what-what I know." He giggled, as though he'd made some kind of joke. Merle took an unsteady step backwards, almost falling. He grabbed for the wall to steady himself. His stumped hand went to his forehead which was suddenly covered in sweat. "Old Merle needs to rest his bones for a bit," he said shakily and pulled out the only chair in the place, sitting down on it heavily.

Carol and Daryl shared concerned looks. Merle was clearly flagging. He could die at any moment and that would leave them tied up and Walker bait for the first undead creature staggering through the door. Daryl felt the panic well up in him. He needed to get Carol away from all of this. He couldn't watch Merle put a gun to her head one more time. It had been some kind of miracle she'd survived this long but Daryl didn't want Carol to pay the price for Merle's growing madness. Daryl's lips tightened as he looked at Carol hoping she knew how sorry he was for her being dragged into all of this Dixon brother craziness. She was the one person he'd promised himself he'd keep safe over everyone else and now everything had gone to shit and he was most likely the reason she was going to die. The thought tightened his throat and caused helpless tears to sting his eyes.

"You ever wonder why our daddy hated you the way he did?" asked Merle suddenly, blinking groggily at Daryl as a ruminating mood seemed to settle on him.

Daryl's attention was back on Merle. If he could keep his brother talking, maybe Merle would pass out and the immediate threat to Carol would be gone. "Because he was a son of a bitch," he offered up bitterly.

Merle gave a rasping laugh. "That he was, boy, that he was." He blinked and focused on Daryl. "But he hated you in a special way, right down to his bones." Merle leant forward, resting the gun on his knee. "Wanna know why?" He looked at the gun. "I mean, I reckon it's time, no more secrets between us all, no more lies."

"I don't care about our daddy," said Daryl, his voice low. "You just need to stop this, Merle."

Merle tightened his grip on the gun and lifted it up, waving it around in the general direction of Daryl. "But you should care, boy. It's a part of your history and history is important." He looked to phase out for a moment. "'Specially now. Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat it." He looked at Carol. "Ain't that right, girlie?" Merle's eyes glazed over and he seemed to lose himself in his thoughts again. He abruptly shook his head, bringing himself back from wherever he'd gone. "The truth is, little brother, that man you called daddy, weren't."

Daryl frowned. "Weren't what?"

Merle pointed the gun at himself. "My daddy," then he pointed it at Daryl, "weren't your daddy."

It was obvious Merle was really starting to lose his mind now. "You don't know what you're sayin', Merle."

Merle arched an eyebrow. "I know more than you, little brother, always have." He leant back in his chair. "He was a piano tuner, name a Beau," said Merle, head starting to sway a little as he told the story, the brain injury clearly starting to take its toll now. "Our Mamma, remember how she had that real sweet voice on her?" Daryl frowned. He vaguely remembered his mother singing but it had been a rare event. Merle didn't wait for an answer as he kept on talking. "We used to have this run down piano she'd thump away on. One day she fixed her mind on gettin' it tuned and in walked good old Beau." He snorted. "Turned out the piano tuner ended up tunin' more than those strings that day."

"She had an affair?" asked Daryl in shock. He didn't know why he was so surprised but the woman he'd called Mamma had just seemed so defeated and lifeless. An affair seemed to be way too of a passionate thing for a woman who liked to drink herself into oblivion on a regular occasion.

Merle inclined his head. "That she did. She and that piano tuner ran around together for over a year by my count." He sent Daryl a knowing look. "Long enough to pop you out anyways, little brother."

Daryl just stared at him in shock. "You're lyin'," he said unevenly. This was the ramblings of a man with a life-threatening brain injury. It had to be.

Merle waggled his head. "Nope, saw 'em with my own two eyes. Came home early from school one day and there was old Beau, givin' our momma the tunin' of her life." He gave a humourless crack of laughter. "It was the day of my tenth birthday. Happy birthday to me."

"You-you're serious?" asked Daryl unevenly.

"As a heart attack," smirked Merle. "Next week she told me she was pregnant and I knew enough by then to know that baby in her belly was likely not my old man's."

Daryl could feel Carol's concerned gaze on him but he couldn't take his eyes off Merle. For some reason Daryl felt himself starting to believe the story Merle was telling. "But you didn't know for sure?" Suddenly Merle's story was threatening Daryl's understanding of himself and the world he grew up in and it raised the hairs on the back of his neck.

"I knew for sure when I overheard our Mamma talkin' to Beau a couple of months after you was born. She was fixin' to run off with you and Beau and leave me behind with that piece of shit." Merle's jaw hardened. "Like I was nuthin' but crap she was scrapin' offa her boot." He looked over at Daryl, expression suddenly earnest. "But I didn't hold that against you, bro." Merle jabbed his gun towards Daryl. "I coulda, but I didn't. That was all down to that heartless bitch. She was gonna leave me with that animal and not look back."

Daryl sat back against the wall, one knee drawn up to his chest, as Merle dealt him yet another shock that day. He couldn't help but think what kind of life he might have had if the two lovers had gone through with their plans. "But she didn't," said Daryl unevenly. "Our Mamma stayed."

Merle gave a short snort of humourless amusement. "Only because she didn't have no choice in the end."

Daryl frowned. "What do you mean?"

Merle looked away briefly and Daryl could see the muscle in his cheek working overtime. "I didn't want her leavin', takin' you and breakin' up our family. It weren't much of a family, but it was mine."

Daryl didn't speak, just waited for Merle to go on. It was clear this conversation was taking a toll on him but now it had started, Daryl needed to know all of it.

"I just wanted everythin' to stay like it was," said Merle unevenly. "I didn't know what to do so I told the old man 'bout it. I thought he could fix everythin'. That's what fathers are meant to do, right, fix things?" His face clouded over. "I made a mistake. I never shoulda done that. I thought I was doin' the right thing. I didn't want them to take you away from me but I didn't want what happened next neither." His expression was gaunt and pleading. "You gotta believe that, bro. I never wanted the old man to-to-" Merle stopped talking abruptly and looked away again.

Daryl had that uneasy feeling back. "What happened, Merle? What did he do?"

Merle was staring sightlessly at a spot on the wall. "A week after I told him about Beau, the old man picked me up from school in that-that beat up old truck of his. He'd never done that before." Merle's breathing was becoming laboured but he kept talking. "We drove out to-to the mill on Peterman Road. I thought we was gonna talk or somethin'." His lips twisted. "I was a dumb kid. The old man had somethin' else other than talkin' on his mind. He made me get outta the truck with him. We walked round to the other side of the mill and there was Beau, waitin' for us." Merle was lost in the past as he told his story. "I reckon he wasn't expectin' us none neither. He looked real surprised. The old man must have tricked him somehow, made him think he was meetin' up with our mamma."

"They-they fought?" asked Daryl hesitantly.

Merle's face twisted in cold amusement. "Your daddy wasn't no fighter, bro. The old man beat him to a bloody pulp while I watched."

Daryl's shoulders sagged. It didn't surprise him to hear of the man he'd always thought to be his father winning in a fight. He'd always been a violent, ruthless prick.

"Old Beau was lyin' there on the ground, beggin' him to stop and you know what my old man did?" Merle's voice was suddenly lifeless. "He got me to tie your daddy to the back of that truck and then we got into that truck and he drove all up and down that gravel road, draggin' Beau along behind us."

Daryl's stomach turned over at the brutal information. He heard Carol suck in a distressed gasp at the horrible story.

"He screamed and screamed and screamed," whispered Merle. "I just wanted him to stop screamin'." He swallowed hard. "And then he did but that was worse." Merle blinked. "We finally stopped drivin' and the old man made me go and untie him, help load what was left of Beau onto the back of the truck. He was just stripped down to the bone in some places. It was the first time I'd ever seen a dead body." Merle's voice trailed off, lost in his memories.

A useless tear slid down Daryl's face for the man he'd never know and for the boy who'd been forced to witness the whole thing.

"We drove back to the house."

Surprise broke through Daryl's grief. "The house?"

"You remember that-that lemon tree in the backyard?" Merle quizzed him. "The one he used to get you to piss on all the time c-c-cause it makes for sweeter lemons?"

"Oh my God," said Carol weakly, shaking her head in distress.

"We buried him just there and put that lemon sapling on top." Merle lips twisted in disgust. "The old prick would laugh himself silly watchin' you take a leak on that thing, not knowin' you were pissin' on your real daddy's head every time."

Daryl hung his head, finding a new hatred for the man who had raised him. It was proof positive that there monsters walking around long before the dead had started to rise. Daryl couldn't imagine how sick you had to be to derive pleasure from something like that.

"Our Mamma never knew what happened to Beau. Just one day he wasn't there." Merle frowned a little. "I reckon she suspected. Hell, maybe the old man even told her durin' one of their rows. All I know is that we buried more than just Beau that-that day. It was like a light went outta that woman. There weren't ever a spark to her again. I guess what she and old Beau had was the real deal." He glanced over at Carol and then back at Daryl. "True love is only eva gonna kick you in the balls, little brother. You remember that. Life ain't a Disney movie. You let someone into your heart then it's only a matter of time before they rip it outta your chest. It ain't worth it."

Daryl could understand why Merle would say something like that after hearing that story. Hell, Daryl would have agreed with him not too long ago. The thing was though, it was easy to dismiss love as an unnecessary commodity as long as you'd never experienced it. When you had, everything changed. Daryl wished Merle could have understood that but it was too late now. "Merle," he groaned, "what happened, it weren't down to you. You was just a kid."

"Yeah," muttered Merle, "I was just a kid, but I understood how things were after that day. Our Mamma could barely stand to look at you for the longest time cause you reminded her so much of the man sh-she'd lost." His brow furrowed. "But you were still her favourite, des-despite it all. You just weren't enough to keep her interested in stayin' in this world though, neither of us was." His voice hardened. "They didn't want you," said Merle, eyes filling up with emotional, blood-filled tears, "neither of them did but me-" he stabbed the gun at his chest, "I did because finally I had real kin. My daddy was a piece of shit and my Mamma wanted to abandon me like the whore she was but I had you, little brother, I had you and we chose each other, over and over again, we chose each other." Merle put the back of his hand to his face, still holding onto the gun as he rubbed his hand over his face and he looked suddenly defeated. "But that ain't how it is anymore, is it, bro?"

"Merle, you'll always be my brother," said Daryl emotionally. "Nuthin' is gonna change that." He was still reeling from the story Merle had just told him. So many things made sense to him now but as always in his life, that understanding seemed to be coming too late to do anyone any good.

Merle dropped his hand away from his face and looked at Daryl, bloody tears still marking his face. "I been tryin' to work-work out wh-when it all went to shit and you know what-what I reckon?"

Daryl dropped his head and shook it.

"I reckon it all started to go to crap the moment I got chained up there on that roof," said Merle bitterly. "I thought I was only cuttin' my hand off, but-but it feels like I lost so much more." He looked at Daryl and blinked a couple of times. "You know?"

Daryl couldn't help but think that everything had gone to shit for Merle the day his daddy had made him an accomplice in murdering an innocent man. The ten year old Merle had been damaged in a way that ran so deep that those wounds could never close over. Daryl's heart broke for his brother and all that had been taken from both of them.

"But it don't matter now," continued on Merle dully. "It's all gonna be over soon, one way or the other." He looked over at Carol, face full of regret. "We gotta finish this, sassy mouth. You and me, we gotta fix this for my little brother." Merle hauled himself to his feet and walked a little unsteadily towards Carol.

Daryl stiffened, fresh fear taking him over. "Merle," he said sharply, "get away from her."

Merle ignored him, eyes locked with Carol's fear-filled ones. He stopped in front of her and then dropped to his knees. Carol eyed him guardedly while Daryl strained against his ties again. Merle looked at her, eyes attempting to focus. "I know why you like her so much, little brother," he rasped. "I know why you want her to love you the way you love her."

Daryl froze at Merle's words and Carol looked surprised herself.

"You know what he said 'bout you, missy?" Merle quizzed her unevenly. "My brother said you saw him, liked the way you looked at him, like he mattered."

"Daryl does matter," said Carol quietly, face drawn but holding his gaze unflinchingly, "and so do you, Merle."

"No, I don't," he rasped. "I ain't worth shit." Merle rested his unsteady head against Carol's forehead, looking deep into her eyes. "You-you're the one who deserves to win this," he confided to her in a ragged whisper. "You're the better person. I want you to win but if you don't, then you have to tell me-me you forgive me, o-okay?"

"Don't do this Merle," Daryl pleaded with him. "And then there is nuthin' to forgive."

Merle just kept looking at Carol. "I don't want you hatin' on me, sassy mouth," he said brokenly, "I just don't."

Carol blinked back tears from Merle's impassioned plea. "I don't hate you, Merle," she said softly. "You just need to stop this now. You're hurtin' Daryl and I know that isn't what you want."

Merle pulled back and straightened up, swaying badly again. "No, no," he slurred, "I'm settin' him free. My little brother, he's too sweet to make a real choice and hurt one of us. I gotta-I gotta do this for him, so he knows it ain't his fault."

There was a twisted, protective logic to Merle's way of thinking which tore Daryl open.

Merle lifted the gun to his head and held Daryl's stricken gaze. "Guess it's time for fate to piss or get offa the pot, bro."

"No!" shouted Daryl, but it was too late, Merle had already pulled the trigger. Carol gave a strangled cry.

Daryl flinched again but there was no sound of a bullet exploding from a chamber. "Shit, no, Merle, please, no," he begged his brother unsteadily.

"Well, look at that," said Merle unevenly, looking surprised. "I guess it's old Merle's lucky day, huh?"

Daryl could hear Carol's uneven breathing matching his own. They both realised what this meant. One bullet, one last place in the chamber and it was Carol's turn. There was no way out. Daryl twisted his hands behind his back in a frenzied attempt to break free.

Merle looked quietly devastated as he pointed the gun at Carol. "This breaks my heart, sassy mouth, it really does."

"Then don't do this," Carol pleaded with him, tears running down her face.

"I have to," said an agonised Merle. "It's fate."

"We make our own fate, bro, isn't that what you always told me?" asked Daryl urgently.

Merle's reply was bitter. "Don't you know by now I'm full of shit, boy?" He levelled the gun at Carol and wiped the sweat from his brow with his stump. "This wasn't how it was m-meant to end," he told her in a rasp. Merle pulled back the hammer of his gun.

"You pull that trigger and I'll kill you!" screamed Daryl. "I'll fuckin' kill you, Merle, you murderin' son of a bitch!"

Merle looked honestly shocked and even a little wounded. He dropped the gun, releasing the hammer and shook his head, eyes actually filling up with tears. "But I'm doin' this for you, little brother. So you don't got to choose no more. I'm makin' your life easier." He grimaced pitifully. "I'm doin' this cause I love you."

Daryl was sure that somewhere in Merle's slowly dying brain that made a kind of sense to him but it was the logic of a crazy person.

"If you love me, you'll do as I say," Daryl argued with him. He kept his voice low and calm. "Merle, just put down the gun and undo me. You and me, we just need to talk is all. Everythin' is gonna be fine."

A bloody tear actually streaked down Merle's face. "No, it ain't," he rasped sadly. "You're in pain, bro. I gotta fix that for you. Havin' both me and Carol in your life hurts you. If I take one of us out, then you'll be fine." Merle gave him an encouraging look. "You'll see, this will all work out for the best. I promise." He lifted the gun and pointed it back at Carol.

Daryl's eyes locked with her stricken gaze.

"Daryl." She choked out his name as Daryl frantically shook his head at her, wanting to wake up from this nightmare now.

"Please, God, no," Daryl begged the God he didn't believe in with a sob, "please, no."

Over the roaring in his ears, Daryl heard Merle pull back the hammer of his gun again, one last time. Daryl couldn't break free. He and Carol were so close, only a few short feet from one another but it may as well have been an ocean. Daryl couldn't get to Carol. He couldn't save her and they both knew it.

"It's okay," Carol whispered to him through her own fear, "it's alright, Daryl. This isn't your fault."

It made it worse that Carol was trying to make him feel better even as she took what would be her last breaths. Daryl thought he'd known what pain and suffering was before but he was in a new kind of hell that had no name and no ending. He couldn't watch Carol be executed. Daryl squeezed his eyes closed and let out a guttural cry of grief and loss as the room filled with the noise of a bullet exploding out of the gun, the sound so loud it was deafening. Suddenly a hot spray of blood was on Daryl's face and in his mouth as he screamed out his blind agony as Carol's blood covered him, letting him know he'd lost her forever...

**A/N****: So, now I think you can all see why I had the love scene when I did. ;) Timing, as they say, is everything. I tried to justify the last chapter's lovemaking by having it at a time of high emotion pushing Caryl out of there self-protective mode. Coming close to losing someone you care about can do that for you. So, I give you that... and then I give you this chapter. **

**I hope all the Merle stuff made sense to you. If you go back a few chapters, I kind of dropped hints about this back story with Merle's inner musings. You couldn't have known it at the time, of course, but it was a little cookie for anyone who might re-read parts of this story. I know this is non-cannon stuff but seeing as they've been vague with Merle/Daryl's history, I figured I could take some liberties. I wanted to give Merle a reason for being quite so f*&k up as he is. This seemed to fit the bill and show why Merle was so hell bent on keeping Daryl's loyalty to only him. It was messed up in his head, the two of them against an unjust world and he couldn't let anyone threaten that wall he'd built up around the two of them. That wall was hiding too much. **

**And yes, I know, another cliffhanger. I want to promise you it's my last... but that would be downright fraudulent of me, because I just don't know. I will try and get the next chapter to you more quickly than this one... no promises though. This week should be theoretically a bit easier (I have help at work for three days next week) but I've learnt not to count my chickens etc etc. **

**So, hopefully I'll see most of you for the next chapter... it's gonna be a doozy, folks... hopefully. :)**


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N****: Well, guys, I was blown away by the response from the last chapter, I truly was. I knew it was a big one from my POV but I wasn't sure what you'd all make of it. **

**With Merle still being alive, I kind of had in my head the true story of Rasputin, the mad Russian monk. Some members of the aristocracy didn't like the influence he had with the Royal family, so they planned to off him. The year was 1916. The conspirators tricked Rasputin into eating pastries laced with potassium cyanide one night... but he didn't die. Nearly three hours after eating the poison, Rasputin still wasn't dead so they decided to shoot him, which they did, in the chest. They then had to wait a few hours (it was about 3am by this time) to dump the body in the river. An hour after shooting Rasputin, one of the conspirators went to check on the body and found it was still warm. Rasputin suddenly sprang up and rushed at the man, trying to choke him. The terrified man ran off to get his co-conspirators to work out what to do next. By this time Rasputin was running out of the house, across the courtyard, threatening to tell the Tsarina of his ordeal. One of them chased after him with a gun, shooting Rasputin the back. Rasputin stopped running, but didn't go down. The man shot him again, this time in the head. Rasputin hit the ground, but was still trying to crawl away. The shooter caught him up and kicked him repeatedly in the head, trying to get Rasputin to die. Another of the conspirators caught them up and flew into a rage and he used a two-pound dumbbell and caved Rasputin's face in with it. Apparently the man was covered in blood when he was done... but Rasputin was still alive. They then tied him up and bound his body in heavy cloth and drove to the river where they heaved him into the river but forgot to weigh the body down. When the body was found the next day in the icy water, the position of the hands suggested Rasputin had still been alive in the water and attempting to get free from his bonds. This was supported by the fact water was found in his lungs. **

**Now, if you wrote a story like that, it would be called fanciful... but as it turns out, Rasputin was the original Terminator. LOL **

**I just think there are some people in this world who have such a forceful and all-encompassing personality that they're just not going to go quietly into that good night. Merle seems like that to me. I think Daryl always saw him as super human growing up, as a lot of little brothers do with their older brothers, so it just seemed kind of fitting to me. **

**Anyways, your responses got me very excited about writing the next chapter, so I've managed to get it to you in a timely fashion this go round. Pretty happy about that. I did leave you all in a rather precarious position, after all. **

**Okay, so, on with the show. I tried a few different orders of things and POV's in my head before settling on what eventually became this chapter. I hope it works for you. Just trying to keep things interesting. ;) **

**See you all soon... hopefully. **

**Chapter Forty Three**

"Believe me, when you die, it's everybody else's but your problem."

~Cecelia Ahern~

_The Gift_

_Daryl tensed, feeling eyes on him. He didn't give any other outward sign of acknowledgement he was aware he wasn't alone anymore. Crouched down over the squirrel he was skinning, he waited until the soft footsteps were almost upon him. In a flash he grabbed his crossbow and whirled around, straightening up and aiming the weapon with deadly intent. The woman gave a startled gasp and took a hurried step back. "Fuck," he muttered through clenched teeth and immediately lowered his crossbow. Daryl glared at her. "What the hell you doin' sneakin' up on a man like that?" he bit out angrily, scaring himself at how close he'd come to putting a bolt between the woman's eyes. _

"_I-I'm sorry," she said, face pale. "I didn't realise I was sneakin' up on you." _

"_There are most likely Walkers everywhere in these woods," he said sharply. "No one's gonna blame a man for shootin' first and askin' questions later." She didn't say anything, just stared at him. The eye contact made Daryl uncomfortable. He moved a little restlessly under her intense look. "What do you want, woman?" _

"_It's Carol," she offered up. _

_Daryl knew. He'd taken the time to size up everyone in camp the day he and Merle had hooked up with this crew. It was habit. Daryl liked to know his enemies and his exits. A lifetime with a brother like Merle had taught him that. This mousy woman barely seemed to speak and was always looking to that prick of a husband of hers, as though asking permission for everything she did. Daryl could see the fresh bruise on Carol's arm, the mark of a man's fingers clearly outlined on her pale flesh. His eyes slid away from the sign of violence. Daryl had grown up with it, knew what it was to feel trapped. People would most likely wonder why she put up with it but Daryl didn't. He knew the shame, the inability to put as much importance on yourself as you did the people around you that left you taking it day after day. It was like you were some damned animal stuck on a road with headlights bearing down on you. Frozen to the spot and without the strength to run for your life. Daryl had taken one look at Carol Peletier and known the woman on the spot. She was hard to look at because for the most part, he felt like he was looking at himself and all the weakness he hated about himself. "Did you hear me askin'?" Daryl turned his back on her, conscious of being rude and not liking how that made him feel bad. He didn't owe this stranger a damn thing, least of all good manners. Daryl had expected Carol to leave after being so summarily dismissed but her quiet voice came from behind him. _

"_I'm about to do a load of washin', do you have anythin' that needs washin'?" _

_Daryl couldn't help himself. He turned around and looked at her in surprise. "What?" _

_Carol waved a vague hand at him. "Your clothes," she repeated. "Do you have any that need washin'?" _

_Daryl scowled, staring at her warily. "Why would you wanna wash my clothes?" _

"_Cause since I was a little girl that was all I ever wanted to do," she said straight-faced, "wash clothes. It makes me really, really happy." _

"_It does?" he asked in shock. _

"_No." _

_Daryl felt his face flush at her making fun of him. His glare deepened, hoping to compensate for any appearance of weakness. _

_Carol continued on calmly. "I can't shoot, I can't hunt but I can cook and clean. I'm contributin' to the camp with the skills I've got, just like you." She arched an eyebrow. "Well?" _

"_Well, what?" he asked gruffly. _

"_Clothes," Carol prompted him yet again, "do you have any you want me to wash?" _

_Daryl had been washing his own clothes for as long as he could remember. His mother wasn't exactly the domestic type, preferring her Jack Daniels and unconsciousness to keeping house. If Daryl had wanted clean clothes or even food, he usually had to fend for himself. The thought of someone else doing this menial task for him was unsettling. Like Carol touching his clothes would be somehow like her touching him. His cheek twitched at the thought and he took a step back without realising he was doing it. "No." Daryl's tone invited not further discussion on the subject. _

_Carol apparently didn't need an invitation. "You sure?" _

_Daryl's lip tightened. "I look stupid to you, woman? Think I'm just some dumb as shit redneck who don't understand plain English?" Why wasn't she going away? Daryl had scared off enough women in his day to know they didn't like being talked to so rudely. What was wrong with this Carol that she kept standing there and taking it? "Or maybe that's just you." _

"_You're covered in squirrel blood," Carol noted. "I thought you might want to do somethin' 'bout that." _

_Daryl glanced down at his shirt where he'd been wiping his hands while skinning the half a dozen squirrels he'd caught earlier that morning. Bits of fur and guts were also stuck to his shirt. Daryl suddenly felt embarrassed for the state he was and that made him angry. Why should he care how he looked to this woman? She was nothing to him. _

"_If you give me your shirt off now, I can just take it with me." _

_Daryl stiffened, his whole body filling with horror that Carol might see the scars which littered his back if he did as she asked. "No!" _

_Carol blinked at the vehemence of his reply. "Um, okay," she said unevenly, "I-I just thought I'd offer, is all." _

"_What are you waitin' for?" asked Daryl angrily, "thanks? I don't need anythin' from you people." _

"_I was offerin' to wash a shirt," said Carol sharply, "not give you a kidney. You don't gotta be such a jerk 'bout it." Her eyes went wide and she took a step back, as though Carol had surprised herself with her defiance. She looked suddenly nervous. "Ah, sorry," she murmured, eyes sliding away from him, "I didn't mean to be rude." _

"_Yeah, you did." _

_Carol's surprised gaze was back on him and then the smallest of smiles touched her lips. "Yeah, I guess I did," she admitted, voice a little stronger again, "but you were rude first." _

_Daryl didn't know why, but that small smile had him mesmerised. It was like seeing the first signs of Spring, a promise of more glorious things to come. "I was mindin' my own business," he muttered, wishing he could walk away from this woman and all the emotion she was causing him. Daryl told himself he wasn't leaving because he still had squirrels to skin. If he tried hard enough he could almost bring himself to believe it. _

_She cocked her head and was backing to eyeing him intently. "You missin' your brother? I know you must be worried 'bout him." _

_Merle had announced yesterday he was going into Atlanta with a group of the others. Said he wanted to see what he could pick up while he was there. The plan was for them to rob this camp and keep moving. The robbing of the camp hadn't sat right with Daryl from the beginning. There were too many kids and except for that cop guy, it wasn't like any of them seemed to be experts in keeping themselves alive. It wasn't right but he knew better than to argue with Merle once his brother got an idea fixed in his head. He hadn't wanted Merle to go, not wanting to hang around in the camp for longer than he had to. Daryl didn't want to get to know these people. He didn't want to add fresh faces to his nightmares. Merle had gone anyway, of course, and now Daryl was left with people he just didn't want to be around. Family units made him nervous, not understanding them, except for maybe Carol's situation. Daryl understood that all too well. "Merle can take care of himself," he ground out. "He don't need nobody worryin' 'bout him." He fixed Carol with a hard look. "Neither do I." Daryl didn't like the thought of Carol noticing him and sizing him up. It was alright for him to do that to other people, but he didn't like folks taking notice of him. The idea made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck and a little sliver of fear run down his spine. _

_Carol grimaced. "I guess you don't." _

_Suddenly her blonde-haired daughter ran up to Carol. "Daddy's lookin' for you," she announced a little breathlessly. _

_Daryl followed Carol's gaze over to where Ed Peletier was standing in the middle of the camp, glaring at the two of them from afar. Daryl stared the man down, letting him know he wasn't going to stand for any of his shit. He wasn't no helpless woman or child. His days of cowering from the likes of that jerk wad were over. _

_Carol smiled sweetly at the child. "I'm comin', honey. You finished your homework yet?" _

_Sophia's head bobbed up and down. "Me and Carl were gonna go swimmin'. Is that okay?" _

_Carol nodded. "I've got washin' to do, so you can come with me down to the water. I don't want you two goin' off by yourselves, you hear me?" _

"_Yes, Mamma," replied Sophia obediently. She cast a wary yet curious look over at Daryl. _

_Daryl returned her look, expression grim. He didn't need another Peletier female sizing him up. One was too many._

"_Carol!" _

_Ed's bellowing voice calling her name told his wife she'd taken too long to obey his command. Carol flicked a nervous look over at her husband and then took Sophia's hand. "Come on, Sophia, let's leave Mr. Dixon be." _

_Hearing Carol call him Mr. Dixon almost made Daryl checked over his shoulder for his own father but he managed to control himself. _

"_If you ever do want anythin' washed," said Carol quietly, "you know where I am." With that she and Sophia walked away, hand in hand and back to the impatient looking Ed. _

_Daryl side-eyed them leaving but didn't go immediately back to his skinning. Instead he stood there, making his presence felt from a distance, letting Ed Peletier know he was watching. Ed glared back at him as he had a few choice words for Carol who quickly kept walking with Sophia, off to do her washing Daryl supposed. He hoped Merle was going to be back soon so they could get the hell out of this place and away from prying eyes who noticed a man when he didn't want to be noticed. The last thing Daryl wanted in this world was any of these people caring about him because he had no intention of giving a shit about any of them._

_Ever. _

**oooOOOOooo**

The noise of the gunshot bounced off the walls, making it sound like a dozen guns had been fired. Daryl's ears were ringing as he rasped for breath, slumped onto the floor, utterly defeated. He didn't want to open his eyes and see Carol dead. It was too much. Less than an hour ago Carol's warm body had been wrapped around him, giving him pleasure Daryl hadn't even known existed before. But it was more than the physical pleasure. To be that close, that intimate with someone and still feel so safe had been a revelation to Daryl. He hadn't fully understood before that moment how such a thing could be possible but Carol had shown him. Only he was never going to know that feeling again.

A hand touched his shoulder and Daryl jerked violently away, as though the light touch had seared the flesh from his naked back. He didn't want Merle anywhere near him. Maybe his brother couldn't be held responsible for what he'd just done because of his slowly dying brain but Daryl didn't care. He didn't want to be measured or understanding when it came to Merle in that moment. Carol had been taken away from him and it was all Merle's fault. The loss was agonising, beyond measure. It was all for nothing. Every bit of happiness and contentment Daryl had known from having Carol in his life was only going to mock him for the rest of it now, because she wasn't going to be in that life. It was easy to live without something when you'd never known it but Daryl had known real intimacy with another person now and being without it was going to be a new kind of hell. He snarled like a wounded animal, lashing out and kicking at the architect of this new, unbearable pain...

**oooOOOOooo**

"Carl," called out Rick, "go easy on this hill." He glanced down at the uneven and slippery ground and knew how easy it would be to turn an ankle or worse, break an ankle. It was the last thing they needed. The rain had eased up enough for he and Carl to start looking for Daryl, Merle and Carol again but Rick was fighting against a rising sense of hopelessness. He didn't want to admit that to Carl and he knew he was a long way from giving up, but it was hard not to feel like they were chasing down the proverbial needles in a haystack.

"Dad, look!"

Rick looked up to where Carl was standing at the crest of the hill. The boy was holding a crossbow up with both hands triumphantly. Rick quickly covered the distance between them, ignoring his own good advice. He took the weapon from Carl's hands and turned it over.

"It's Daryl's," said Carl confidently.

Rick nodded. "That it is." Okay, so maybe this wasn't completely as hopeless as Rick had first feared.

Carl was already looking around eagerly. "I see Merle's prints," he exclaimed excitedly. Carl turned around in circles, tracing the movement of tracks in the mud.

Meanwhile, Rick had spied something else. He walked over to where the body of a Walker lay on the other side of a rock. He crouched down beside it and looked it over. As he did, Rick noticed something else. Not too far from the body was a piece of phone cable. He straightened up and moved to retrieve it, rescuing the scrap of plastic and wires from the mud. Rick looked at the cable carefully, immediately able to see that the cord had been cut by something sharp, most likely a knife. It looked like Carol had been cut lose but by who was the big question. The even bigger question was where were they all now? He turned around to see Carl peering over the edge of the drop off. "Carl!" said Rick sharply. "Come away from the edge. This ground ain't stable."

Carl took a couple of steps away, his expression serious. "I reckon Daryl and Merle went over this ledge into the water."

Rick quickly walked over to where Carl was standing. He carefully looked over the edge and grimaced to see how fast the water was flowing, even though the rain had lessened somewhat. If Merle and Daryl had come to blows and ended up in the river, which they almost certainly had, then Rick wasn't sure where that left any of them, least of all Carol. She hadn't taken Daryl's crossbow so she protecting herself hadn't been her first priority. Rick's procedural mind tried to piece together the events on top of that hill, hoping to make a balanced prediction over what to do next. "We need to follow the river," he announced. "See if either of them washed up anywhere."

Carl's face was drawn. "You think they're dead?"

Rick answered his son with slightly more optimism then he felt. "I think if it was that easy to kill a Dixon boy, they'd both have been dead a long time ago."

Carl seemed heartened by that and nodded. "Yeah, me too." He went to sling Daryl's crossbow over his shoulder, the large weapon hanging low on his smaller frame, just out of the mud.

"You need to adjust the straps," noted Rick. "Make 'em shorter."

"Nah," said Carl confidently, "Daryl wouldn't like me messin' with his crossbow. I reckon he's got the strap sittin' just right on him. He'll be mad if I give it back to him and changed somethin'."

Rick half-smiled, glad to see such optimism in his son. It was becoming a rare event. "Come on, we'll follow the river and see if we can pick up anymore tracks."

They hurried back down the side of hill and then trekked along the edge of the river. They'd walked for about ten minutes when Carl gave an excited squeak.

He stuck out his finger. "Look, over there." Carl broke into a run, his gait unnatural with the poorly positioned crossbow throwing him off balance. Rick followed him and immediately saw what had caught his son's eye. By the edge of the river bank were a series of messed up muddy foot prints and some drag marks.

"I think that's Daryl and Carol's prints," said Carl excitedly. "It ain't Merle and that print is too small to be a man's. I reckon it has to be Carol's."

Rick nodded. "I reckon you're right." He looked around, trying to work out where they might have gone next. Some bushes were messed up to their right, like two people could have been stumbling away from the river. Rick looked down at Carl who was also taking in the broken foliage. "I think they were headin' this way."

Carl grinned. "I knew they were gonna be okay." The two of them starting following the trail away from the river and into the woods.

Rick hoped Carl's confidence was warranted. They didn't know for sure that it was Carol and Daryl's trail they were following. Heck, they weren't even sure it was a real trail. There was no sign of Merle, which made Rick nervous. There was no way he'd count the other man out. Merle Dixon was just too much of a tenacious son of a bitch to simply drown. It didn't seem like his style. They hadn't gone too far when they came to a clearing, at the centre of which was a log cabin. Rick put a hand on Carl's shoulder, indicating they should stop.

"What are we waitin-?" began Carl but Rick silenced him with a finger to his lips. Carl made a frustrated face, but continued talking in a low whisper. "They could be in there," he said in agitation. "It makes sense, gettin' out of the rain."

"It might make sense to a lot of folks gettin' out of the rain," returned Rick, his voice low. "We don't know who, if anyone, is in there."

"That's why we have to find out," said Carl impatiently, moving forward.

Rick grabbed his arm and shook his head. "We circle round, come in from behind." He looked over at the one window at the front of the cabin. There was no way he was going to stroll up to that front door and give anyone inside a chance to take a clear shot at him. Rick inclined his head, silently telling Carl to follow him. They ran around the edge of clearing. Rick made sure to keep them deep enough into the woods that if anyone was in the cabin, they wouldn't be able to see them. They came up behind the cabin and as the two of them walked into the clearing, three Walkers broke from the line of trees, eagerly chasing them down. Rick drew out his knife and killed two of them cleanly while Carl tackled the third. Carl's Walker was a girl who didn't look much older than Carl but the boy dispatched her without any sign of emotion. Rick supposed that was a good thing. They continued to the cabin, creeping up along the side until Rick could carefully look into the dirty window, already able to hear raised voices. Everything happened at once then. As Rick looked into the window Daryl made a guttural cry. Rick saw Merle standing in the room, but with the height and location of the window, he couldn't see anything else. What he did see was Merle with his hand outstretched, holding a gun. Rick just reacted, knowing Daryl wouldn't be making a sound like that unless lives were at stake. He grabbed for his gun, pulling the weapon out of its holster and fired through the glass. Carl gave a shocked gasp beside him but then Rick was rushing into the cabin.

His shot had hit Merle in the head and the man was laying face down on the ground, not moving. The left side of Merle's head was gone as the bullet had exited his skull and done the most damage. Rick took only an instant to reassure himself the threat from Merle was neutralised but Carl had already bolted past him to where the blood-splattered Daryl was slumped over on the floor, hands pulled back behind him from where they were tied to a post. Rick was already heading towards Carol in the other corner. She was collapsed against the wall, face ashen and eyes closed. Behind him he heard Daryl make an almost snarling noise and then Carl was crying out. Rick whirled around to see Carl grabbing his leg in pain as Daryl bucked and flailed about with his body in a blind rage. "DARYL!" said Rick loudly, trying to break through the other man's madness. "Stop it! It's alright, you're safe."

At the sound of Rick's voice Daryl finally opened his eyes and blinked around. "The fuck?" he rasped raggedly, looking confused.

Carl was still rubbing his leg. "It's okay," he said quickly. "We're here to rescue you."

Daryl's attention was on Carol as the boy more carefully this time, moved to cut him free. "Carol?" he called to her. "Carol!"

Confident Daryl wasn't going to hurt Carl again, Rick moved swiftly to Carol's side, just as the woman's eyes fluttered open. She looked to be in the same amount of shock as Daryl.

"Carol," said Daryl with a little sob, the relief obvious in his voice.

Rick was cutting the strips of blanket which were tying her hands together behind her back. "You're fine, Carol, we got you."

Daryl was free now too and was trying to stand. Carl was forced to grab at the older man's waist to steady him. Daryl looked down at the lifeless body of his brother and swallowed hard. Rick grimaced, wishing things hadn't come down to this but he couldn't bring himself to be anything but glad that Merle was dead. He felt for Daryl but it was obvious that whatever had been going down in the cabin, it had not been good. Daryl staggered over to Carol and then dropped to his knees in front of her. "Are you alright?" he whispered, not even seeming to notice Carl and Rick's presence. Blood was still dripping from his face. Carol bit her bottom lip and nodded her head, going to reach out a hand to touch his face but then she gave a cry of pain.

Rick tensed, his eyes sweeping her body. There was a patch of blood on Carol's shirt which he'd assumed was Merle's but he could see now it was growing, spreading out like a red blanket across Carol's middle. He swore under his breath. "I think you've been hurt, Carol," he said urgently. "I'm just gonna take a look, okay?" Rick was praying it was just a cut from some broken glass when he'd taken the shot but as he carefully lifted Carol's t-shirt he knew he was hoping in vain. At the bottom of Carol's rib cage, on the left-hand side, was the unmistakeable sign of a bullet wound. His shoulders sagged, realising Merle had pulled the trigger of his gun as he'd died. It was a risk Rick had known he was taking but there had been no time to do anything else.

"It-it's not bad," said Carol shakily. "I can barely feel it, really."

Rick and Daryl's eyes met and Rick could see the devastation in the other man's eyes. The amount of blood Carol was losing told them both it wasn't good. He forced a reassuring smile to his lips. "I'm just gonna take a closer look, okay?" Rick very carefully moved Carol forward, wincing as she hissed in pain. There was a messy exit wound at the back where more blood was pouring out. "It's a through and through," he assessed quickly. "The bullet isn't still in you, Carol." Rick glanced at the wall behind her and could see where the bullet had kept travelling into the wood.

"See," said Carol with a weak smile, "I told you. It's nuthin'."

Rick could only wish that were true. "Carl, go fetch me that blanket," he ordered the boy hastily. Carl scrambled to obey, running to retrieve the blanket and bring it back to his father. Rick immediately used his knife to tear it into strips. He folded one thick length up into a wad and pressed it against Carol's wound. "Here," he instructed Daryl, "press down hard. We gotta stop this bleedin'."

Daryl's hand immediately went to the makeshift dressing and applied pressure, wincing as Carol groaned noisily. "I'm sorry," he rasped.

She shook her head at him, trying to smile. "Don't-don't be."

Meanwhile Rick was working on another section of blanket to fold up as a pad for the other side of Carol's wound. He pressed the dressing against the exit wound and then managed to start wrapping the longer, thinner strips of the blanket tightly around Carol's middle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he apologised as he worked, brushing Daryl's hand out of the way as the bandage held the pad in place now. "I gotta make this tight."

Carol's lips were deathly white but she nodded bravely. "I know. Do what you gotta do, Rick."

"We need to get you back to the prison," said Daryl, his voice shaking. "Back to Hershel. He'll fix you up just fine."

Carol nodded, squaring her shoulders. "Then why are we sittin' around here talkin'?" she sassed them shakily. "Let's get this show on the road."

"I reckon it's at least two hours back to the prison," calculated Rick.

"I know another way," Daryl countered. "We can do it in an hour." He looked down at the trembling Carol and Rick knew Daryl was thinking what he was.

An adult setting a healthy pace could make that distance in an hour. Having to help someone bleeding out over that kind of distance was not going to be so fast. Truth be told, Rick wasn't even sure Carol had an hour if his impromptu bandaging didn't work. There was no real way of knowing the extent of her internal injuries either and the reality that they may just be delaying the inevitable for Carol hit Rick hard. He'd come to rely on her calm certainty when caring for Judith and just the way she always seemed to know the right thing to say to him when something was weighing heavy on his mind. Rick knew Carol had gotten shot because of him and he needed to make this right. He couldn't lose another mother from the group, he just wasn't going to let that happen. "You know what, I think maybe you and Daryl should rest up here." Rick looked at Daryl. "Carl and me, we'll head back to the prison and work somethin' out. Maybe get one of the cars and try and meet half-way."

Daryl nodded quickly. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Dad." Carl's strained voice had Rick's instant attention. The boy was looking out the window of the cabin, a serious expression on his face. "We've got company."

"How many?"

Carl pulled a face. "All of them."

Rick left Daryl cradling Carol and stood up to look out the broken window. "God damn it," he cussed when he saw the Walkers amassing outside. They were wandering around aimlessly at the moment, drawn by the sound of the gun shots but Rick knew as soon as any one of them attempted to step outside of the cabin, they'd have a hungry herd bearing down on them. He jerked Carl away from the window, not wanting to alert the things to their presence. Anyone staying in the cabin wasn't an option but them trying to leave wasn't exactly one either, not with how weak Carol was.

"You got a plan?" Daryl quizzed him gruffly.

Rick sighed heavily. "Yeah, I'd like to wake up now," he said grimly.

**A/N****: Aaannnddd another cliffhanger... you're not really shocked, are you? I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. 0:)**


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:**** Ug, so, this chapter was really tough to write, guys. The muse just didn't want to play ball and I had to write a lot of descriptive scenes – not my fave – plus, this chapter has a fair bit of emotion, so that's always a bit draining to write. Now that I'm done with this chapter, I don't know if I've gone too cheesy/sappy with it all. I'm always wary of being too Sweet Valley High in a TWD fic, but sometimes you do have to their with the emotional stuff. I don't know if it works, I just can't tell. **

**Anyways, I'm happy to have it done and dusted so I can try and move onto the next chapter. Although, I suspect it won't be any easier to write... dang it! .**

**Thanks for your patience, guys and now, let's see what's to be done about the dire straits I left our crew in last chapter, hmm? :)**

**Forty Four **

"Are we all ready?" asked Rick tightly. "We're only gonna get one shot at this."

Carol looked over at Daryl and saw the conflict on his face. She knew he was thinking he should be doing this, but Carol also knew he didn't want to leave her side. It wasn't conceit that made her think such a thing. It was just knowing the man standing beside her with his arm around her waist, supporting her. Carol knew Daryl would be feeling responsible for everything that had happened with Merle. She glanced over at the older Dixon brother's body, a pained expression coming over her face. Poor Merle. For all of his many faults and wrong steps, Carol couldn't help but lament his death. What chance had Merle ever really had with the childhood he'd endured? The guilt he must have carried all these years over Beau's death and his part in it had coloured his every action and thought.

Despite everything, Carol had seen flashes of the man Merle could have been if life had been just a little bit kinder to him and he hadn't been looking to punish himself for a crime which hadn't been his fault. Carol looked back at Daryl with regret. Everything was happening so quickly, Daryl hadn't had any time to process his brother's death. She knew when this was all over it was going to hit him hard and Carol could only pray she was going to be around to help him through it. The odds weren't in her favour, Carol knew that. She was badly hurt and a long way from help and safety. She'd told them they should leave her, but hadn't won the ensuing argument. Carol couldn't bear the thought of the others getting hurt or worse because of her, but it hadn't surprised her that none of them would listen to her request to be left behind.

"You sure you're right to do this, Rick?" asked Daryl tightly.

"It's my idea and besides-" he looked the battered and bruised Daryl over, "I'm in the best shape to do it."

Daryl scowled. "I can run."

"Good," said Rick firmly, "cause you're gonna need to." He gave a concerned look over at Carol. "You right to do this, Carol? It's gonna be tough for you."

"I was in labour for twenty-three hours with Sophia with no painkillers," said Carol, instilling as much determination as she could into her tone. "This is gonna be nuthin' by comparison."

Rick gave a little smile and nodded. "That's my girl." He stepped up to the door and opened it just the barest crack, checking on the clearing full of Walkers. Rick glanced back over his shoulder at his son. "Carl, you keep ahead of Daryl and Carol, make sure they're not runnin' into anythin' unexpected, you hear?"

Carl's head bobbed up and down. "Yes, sir."

Rick returned his attention to sneaking a look out the door and drew in a steadying breath. "Okay, here we go, people. Stay close to one another and I'm gonna catch you up as soon as I can." With that Rick slipped out the front door, closing it behind him. He ran directly towards the herd of Walkers, expertly weaving between them. "Here I am, you sons of bitches!" he yelled. "Come and get me!" With that Rick increased his pace and ran off into the woods on the other side of the clearing.

Carl was now watching through the door. "They're following him," he said unevenly.

Carol looked through the broken window and saw the hungry herd all start to head in the direction of where Rick had run off. They could still hear the other man calling out, drawing their attention away from the cabin. In less than a minute the clearing was emptied of all Walkers.

Daryl's hold on her tightened, his fingers gripping the arm she had around his neck tightly. "You heard the man," he said in a low voice, "we keep it tight, no matter what. No one gets left behind, got it?"

Carol knew that last little bit was for her and she just prayed she wasn't about to get these people all killed. Gritting her teeth she attempted to block out the pain in her side. It felt like her ribs were on fire and every breath was an exercise in agony but Carol wasn't about to give in to it. They'd all suffered over the last year and this was just another thing to endure and bear it she would. The three of them moved out of the cabin, Carl ahead of Daryl as the older man supported Carol. They hurried around the back of the cabin and into the surrounding woods. Carol had to confess that she was all turned around as to which way the prison was from where they were but didn't have a moment's doubt about Daryl knowing exactly where they were heading. It was like the man had an internal compass which always set him straight. Carol put all of her energy into keeping pace with Daryl, conscious of not putting too much weight on him but barely twenty minutes into their flight to safety she was already leaning on him more and more. She was struggling to catch her breath, each intake of air was an exercise in torture for her side and breathing out was even worse. Her next step had her slipping on some mud and they were forced to stop as Daryl quickly steadied her. Carol couldn't help the moan which escaped her lips as Daryl's hand dug into her side, trying to stop her from falling. The blood drained from her face at the pain and spots appeared before her eyes. "Need to s-sit down," she stammered, feeling her knees buckle.

"We can't stop," said Carl in agitation.

Carol shook her head, knowing it was true but her body didn't care. She crumpled to the ground, Daryl slowing her fall as they both ended up on the sodden ground. "I'm s-sorry," she gasped and the promptly broke into a coughing fit which introduced her to a new kind of agony. Suddenly there was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth and Carol was forced to spit it out on the ground in front of her. The bright red blood stood out against the brown of the mud and she felt Daryl tense beside her. "I bit my tongue," Carol lied to him unsteadily to allay his fears. The blood had come from her lungs and that couldn't mean anything good. Exhaustion was creeping into her body and now that she'd stopped moving, Carol didn't want to start again. "Daryl," she rasped, "you-you need to go and look for Rick." Carol's pale features were tight with concern. "He shoulda caught us up by now."

"Rick knows what he's doin'," said Daryl grimly but Carol could see he was worried too. Before Carol could argue anymore there was the sound of heavy footsteps suddenly coming towards them from within the woods. Daryl snapped into action, swinging the crossbow around from his back and pointing it at the woods where the noise was coming from. He was kneeling on one knee, finger on the trigger as Rick burst through the tree line.

Rick's eyes went wide and he held up a defensive hand as he came to an abrupt halt. "No!" he said loudly.

Daryl let the bolt go anyway. The arrow whistled past Rick's head and claimed the Walker coming up behind him. Rick looked over his shoulder and then back at Daryl. "On the other hand, yes. Thanks."

Daryl inclined his head in silent acknowledgement of the other man's gratitude.

Carl was by Rick's side in an instance as Rick retrieved the arrow from the Walker's head. "You okay, Dad?"

Rick smiled and put a hand on his son's head. "Yeah, fine."

"The Walkers?" asked Daryl gruffly, still kneeling beside Carol as Rick handed him back his arrow.

"Lost the bulk of 'em," said Rick, "but there is no tellin' what lies between us and the prison still." He crouched down beside Carol. "How you doin'?"

Carol forced a weak smile to her lips. "I've been better." She reached out and squeezed his arm. "I'm glad you're okay." Rick covered her hand with his own and returned the smile.

"She's coughin' up blood," said Daryl grimly.

"I told you, I bit my tongue," maintained Carol with as much strength as she could.

Daryl's response was definitive. "You were lyin'."

Carol opened her mouth to argue with him and closed it again. They never had been great at lying to one another.

Daryl was looking at Rick. "Carol can't make it to the prison. Her breathin' ain't right, it's too far."

Carol hated being the weakest link but Daryl was speaking the truth. "I-I can keep going," she said unevenly, not sure it was true.

"No, you can't," said Daryl tightly. "You've lost too much blood." His attention was on Rick. "If we change direction, in 'bout ten minutes we'll come to a bridge. The bridge runs over a dirt road which will link back up to the main highway. Carol and me can hole up under the bridge while you and Carl go and get a car from the prison. It's gonna be the quickest way."

Rick gave a short nod of his head. "Sounds like a plan." He took Carol's arm. "Carol, we gotta get you to that bridge. Can you stand up?"

Carol's head was spinning but she didn't want anyone to know. "Yes." With Daryl on one side and Rick on the other, they helped her to her feet. Her legs felt like they were made of cooked spaghetti as she struggled to stay upright. The two men supported her weight between them.

"Carl, you're on point," Daryl instructed him tersely. He inclined his head. "We're goin' thataway."

Carl immediately trotted off in the direction Daryl had indicated, the boy's head going back and forth as he continually checked for any incoming Walkers. Meanwhile Carol's feet barely touched the ground as Rick and Daryl broke into a trot, carrying her between them. The jerky motion was excruciating and Carol wanted to scream at them to stop but instead she bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. This was the only way. Carol felt like they were moving for hours, every step the men on either side of her took stretched out into undulating waves of pain which had no end. Her vision was blurring and didn't even realise they'd reached the bridge until they suddenly stopped walking. Rick and Daryl carefully lowered her to the ground and it was only then Carol took in her surroundings properly. They were under a wooden bridge with their backs against the concrete pylons and the raging river a few feet away. The bridge afforded a small amount of protection from being immediately visible to Walkers wandering about and Carol prayed it was going to be enough. She had no more running left in her. Her gaze drifted over to Rick and Daryl who were both straightening up. Her bleary gaze struggled to focus but she saw the red steaks on their shirts. "You're both hurt," she gasped weakly, trying to work out when that had happened.

Rick looked down at his shirt and made a regretful face. "It's your blood, Carol," he told her gently.

Carol blinked, trying to make sense of that statement. It couldn't be her blood, there was just too much of it. "No," she rasped, "no, that's not right."

She felt Carl put a worried hand on her shoulder. "Carol?" he said her name uncertainly.

The worry in the boy's voice made Carol try and focus. She sent him a weak smile and covered his hand with her own. "I'm okay," she insisted, patting his hand. "Don't worry 'bout me, Carl."

Rick's tone was determined as he looked between Carol and Daryl. "We're gonna be right back. Just stay safe."

Daryl pressed his lips together and nodded and then Rick and Carl were running up the bank to get onto the bridge and follow the road back to the prison. Carol closed her eyes and leant back against the pillar of concrete behind her.

She felt Daryl's hand cupping her face. "You're hot."

Carol couldn't help but half-smile, not opening her eyes. "Not tonight, dear, I've got a headache." She could almost swear she heard Daryl blush at her teasing. It was worth opening her eyes for.

Daryl did look a little pink as he glared at her. "You've got a temperature," he said gruffly, worrying creasing his face.

A seriousness settled on Carol. Fevers were a terrifying thing nowadays. "Promise me you'll kill me if-if I die," she requested of him, voice low. The question would have been almost funny back in the day, but now it was life and death in the truest sense of the word. Normally it wasn't even a question that would be asked. It was a tacit understanding whereby everyone knew there might come a day when you'd have to put down someone you cared about, to save yourself, to save them. Carol was only making Daryl promise to do just that because she was worried she'd really messed with his head by initiating the lovemaking in the cabin. It had just seemed so right in the moment. They'd both come so close to losing each other forever and Carol wanted to take Daryl away from all of his pain. Just for a few minutes, she'd wanted to show him something beautiful and sweet rather than the darkness and pain which filled so much of life now. In that cabin they'd been wrapped up in a cocoon of just the two of them. No one else had existed and there were no consequences.

But there were always consequences, one way or the other.

Carol suspected that may have been Daryl's very first proper sexual encounter. It hardly seemed possible but then, considering how damaged he was, Carol actually wasn't that surprised. Daryl didn't trust easily and sex was all about trust and vulnerability. Well, good sex was anyway and what they'd shared had been better than good, it had been amazing. Carol felt a closeness to Daryl that she hadn't felt for another person for a long time, not since Sophia had died and that was entirely different anyways. She and Daryl had been close before but physical intimacy always added something else to a relationship which was hard to define but incredibly powerful. Daryl had lost so much today, his brother, a father and life he'd never know and Carol wasn't sure how he'd cope with losing her as well. She was the one person other than his brother Daryl had let past every boundary he'd set up to protect himself against getting hurt. Daryl's loyalties, when he gave them, ran deep. It scared Carol to think he might not be able to finish her off if she turned. The thought made her feel guilty over letting things go as far as they had in the cabin. She didn't want something she'd allowed to happen cause Daryl a moment's hesitation in protecting himself.

Daryl's expression hardened at her request, but not before Carol saw the flicker of pain. "You want a promise from me? I promise you today ain't the day you're gonna die, Carol."

"Don't let me hurt you, Daryl," she said in anguish, fearful it was already too late, that she was causing him pain even now.

"You need to stop talkin'," said Daryl gruffly. "Save your strength. Rick's gonna be back soon and everythin' is gonna be just fine. You hear me?"

Carol resisted the urge to point out Daryl had said almost those exact same words to her when talking about finding Sophia. It hadn't been fine in the end but Carol couldn't help but marvel at Daryl's innate optimism. It was an optimism life had tried to take from him but he'd somehow held onto some shred of it, despite everything. Her lips curved upwards in an unsteady smile. "I hear you."

Daryl gave a curt nod of approval and then he moved to the edge of the pylon and started to look around, keeping an eye out for Walkers. Carol closed her eyes, safe in the knowledge Daryl would keep watch for both of them. She let out a ragged breath, trying to remember what it was like to breathe without pain.

"Hey," said Daryl sharply, "eyes open."

Carol forced her eyes open and she looked up at him with a vaguely annoyed frown. "You said for me to rest."

"Rest with your eyes open," he ordered her. "Don't fall asleep." Daryl's voice roughened. "I don't want you fallin' asleep."

Because she might not wake up.

His unspoken worry hung between them and Carol grimaced. "Okay, eyes open," she agreed weakly. It was hard to keep her eyes open when sleep was exactly what she wanted to do but Carol didn't want to add to Daryl's anxieties. Instead she focused on the tear in Daryl's trousers, just over his left knee. There was a matching one just starting on the other side now too. He was going to need new pants soon. The mundane thought was a welcome relief from thinking about their situation. The minutes ticked by, Carol struggling to keep her eyes open and Daryl keeping watch. Suddenly he moved, stepping back behind the cover of the pylon. Daryl looked down at her and put his finger to his lips. Carol froze, knowing there must be a Walker approaching. She couldn't see anything but then Daryl stepped out from behind the concrete, his crossbow raised. Just as quickly he stepped back, face lined with frustration. Carol looked at him quizzically. He mouthed the word 'herd' to her and Carol's heart sank. Daryl and his crossbow was no match for a herd. Daryl's head snapped this way and that, hastily accessing their potential escape routes which were dwindling to none. The Walkers were pressing in on them from all sides, Carol could see them now. All sides except for one. "We have to get in the water," said Daryl in an urgent whisper.

"Wh-what?" gasped Carol. She sent a distressed look at the fast moving water. There was no way she'd be able to hold her own against the force of that river. She wasn't even sure she'd be able to stand up again.

Daryl stuck his finger out and pointed. "There, that crop of rocks out from the bank. If we can get to it and put our backs against it, that'll stop us from being taken by the current. The geeks won't be able to get to us." She could feel Daryl's eyes on her. "Can you do it?"

Carol bit her bottom lip, knowing she had to try. She wanted to scream no but couldn't do that to him. "Yes." It was their only chance.

Daryl hurriedly crouched down and helped Carol to her feet as gently as possible. He gripped her wrist tightly and tucked her closely into his body with the arm around Carol's waist. They moved as quickly as Carol could manage to the water's edge. The brown water swirled past them at a frightening rate but Carol reminded herself it was barely more than a few hours ago she'd braved that same water to go in after Daryl. She hadn't been shot then but Carol didn't let herself think about it. With Daryl holding onto her tightly, they waded into the water together. The coldness of the river caused a shocked gasp to leave Carol's lips but they couldn't stop now. A quick look over her shoulder showed the Walkers were still chasing them down. It was Daryl who managed to drag them over to the outcrop of rocks he'd pointed out, about fifteen feet off the bank. Carol couldn't offer much help against the turbulent water other than just clinging to him. He turned her around so that her back was against the rocks, the water chest high on her. Daryl then planted himself in front of her, his back to the water and protected Carol from the worst of the hard flowing water. He braced himself with his hands on either side of her shoulders, palms flat against the rock.

Daryl shook the water out of his eyes and looked at her in concern. "Okay?"

Carol managed to force a wobbly smile to her lips. "I haven't had this-this much fun in ages." Her lips were numb and the words felt strange in her mouth. Carol didn't know if it was from the coldness of the water or blood loss. Probably both.

Daryl's attention was on the Walkers as the first ones to reach the bank stepped into the water after them, no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. They made no allowances for the change in environment, their mindlessness drive to seek out food over everything else sealing their fate. The handful of Walkers were picked up by the fierce currents and simply dragged away.

"It's workin'," said Daryl, the relief unmistakeable in his voice.

Carol sagged back against the rock at her back, the water numbing the pain of her wound but she could already feel the coldness seeping into her body. It was more than just the cold from the water. Carol could feel her body slowly shutting down from the blood loss and trauma. She looked up at Daryl as he protected her from the worst of the rush of water with his body. His attention was on the Walkers standing on the bank, eyeing them with their dead eyes. Another Walker braved the torrent, stepping into the fast flowing water and was promptly swept away. Still another followed, learning nothing from its fellow creature's fate. It too was dragged down into the swirling water and whisked away from them.

"Dumbasses," muttered Daryl but he seemed pretty happy about that fact. He looked back at her. "We just need to stay here until they clear. Then we can find some other place to hide up in until Rick gets back."

There were so many implied ifs in that confident-sounding statement and they both knew it. _If _the Walkers cleared, _if_ it didn't take too long and Carol got too cold in the water to survive, _if_ she was strong enough to fight her way back out of the water, _if _they could find a safe place and_ if_ Rick could find them again. Then, maybe, everything was going to be alright. Carol's exhausted mind couldn't even work out how long they'd been waiting for Rick to return. She didn't know if minutes had gone by or half an hour. What Carol did know was she wouldn't be able to take too much longer in this water. The hopelessness of her situation overwhelmed Carol as she looked up into Daryl's determined face, so close to hers. She couldn't let him go down with her sinking ship. Carol rasped his name. "Daryl."

Daryl dragged his wary attention off the Walkers still milling around the bank and met her gaze.

"I'm dyin'," she whispered, feeling tears burn her tired eyes. "I'm not gonna make it back to the prison."

Daryl flinched, his jaw hardening. "Don't you say that," he bit out. "You're gonna make it."

Carol's tears were falling from her eyes and being lost in the spray of brown water swirling around her as she tried to save his life. "Please, Daryl, if you ever had any kind of feelin' for me, leave me," she choked out. "I can't have you lose your life because of me."

Daryl's expression was hard but the anguish in his eyes was breath taking. "If you ever had any kind of feelin' for me, you won't ask me that again," he said raggedly.

Carol bit her bottom lip and shook her head at him. Her impossible, doggedly stubborn redneck. Was it possible to love and hate something about a person at the same time? Carol slumped back against him, the will to fight him on this giving way to remembering how to breathe. She gave a broken little laugh through all the emotional torment as something occurred to her. The simple action hurt Carol's ribs like someone had stuck a red hot poker into her side. "At least I finally got you to take that bath," she murmured unevenly. "And wash your clothes. I'm not gonna die in vain."

"You ain't gonna die at all," said Daryl harshly, "and if you don't stop talkin' like that, I'm gonna drown you myself."

Carol could feel her eyelids dropping. "Your bedside manner needs-needs work," she teased him shakily. If she couldn't get Daryl to save himself, Carol was at least going to try and ease some of the tension, assuming that was possible, of course.

"And so does this lie down and die attitude of yours," Daryl shot back, voice rough with emotion. "I'm not lettin' you leave me, Carol. It ain't gonna happen."

Carol forced her eyes open and blinked back fresh, regret-filled tears. "I don't want to leave you, Daryl," she whispered, "but I don't know if I have a choice anymore."

Daryl swallowed hard, his own eyes glassy. "I'm sick of havin' no choice 'bout nuthin'. I'm sick of everythin' bein' takin' from me. I ain't never asked anythin' from this world," he continued on fiercely, "but I'm askin' for you. Don't the world or God or whoever owe me at least that? For all the shit I got handed. Don't I get to have one thing that makes me happy? One thing I can keep safe in this goddamn shithole of a life."

His suffering was a palatable thing between them and Carol couldn't help but give a little choked cry of grief on both of their behalves. She cupped his face and Daryl's face crumbled as he leaned his forehead against hers. "Stay with me," he begged her raggedly, "please, Carol, don't leave me."

Suddenly Daryl looked like the scared little boy Carol had imagined him to be as a child and it was heart-breaking. She gave him the only answer she could, even though she was worried it was going to be a lie. "I won't," she said simply. Daryl dropped his face into her shoulder and gave a choked sob of relief. He needed to know she'd fight to stay with him and Carol was going to do her best to do just that. If her failing body would just allow her. She found the strength to wrap her arms around Daryl's body, offering him comfort, even as a new wave of exhaustion pummelled her body. Carol battled to keep her eyes open as she cast her gaze over at the ever-present threat of the Walkers. They were all just a growling and grunting blur to her, but something caught Carol's eye, a bleary figure dressed in something pink. She put all of her energy into focusing on that one figure. Carol's vision cleared and she sucked in a tiny gasp of disbelief. "Sophia," she whispered, eyes going wide. Her little girl was standing on the river bank, dressed in the pretty pink dress Carol had made her especially for the Church picnic last year. Her daughter looked as beautiful and unblemished as Carol had ever seen her. Sophia gave her mother a sweet smile, her young face lighting up with love and affection. Carol just wanted to go to her, arms aching to hold the child she thought she'd lost forever. She didn't want to question what was happening, just wanted to close the distance between them and sweep her daughter into her arms and never let her go again. "Sophia," Carol breathed again, suddenly not feeling as cold anymore as she refused to take her eyes off the vision in front of her. Everything else was fading around her and it was only Sophia who was growing brighter. Carol reached out a hand to her daughter, straining to touch her, not even noticing as the life slowly drained from her body...


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N****: And we're back! **

**Sorry for the hiatus, peeps. I have a confession to make... I got caught up writing another fic - a Doctor Who one – so I ended up writing a few chapters of that while the muse was hot to trot. If you're a DW fan and have the urge to check it out, the story is called 'Wednesday's Child'. **

**Plus, I've had visitors in the last couple of days, so there has been no writing going on but I've finally managed to get this chapter done now, and here we all are. :)**

**I've made you wait for so long for this chapter, I won't carry on, just let you read. Hope this chapter ends up making some kind of sense. I must confess to a fair degree of exhaustion these days with no time off work for a while now. **

**Thanks for your patience everyone... see you at the next chapter... hopefully. ;) **

**Chapter Forty Five**

"Sophia."

Carol's weak calling for her daughter was frightening Daryl. He looked over his shoulder to where Carol was fixated and saw nothing, not even a Walker standing there. "No, no, no," he said to her in panic. "Carol, come on, look at me, look at me." Daryl grabbed her face and forced Carol to face him.

Her eyes struggled to focus and she seemed surprised to see him there. "D-daryl?" she whispered unsteadily.

"Sophia's not there," he told her urgently, "but I am. Hang in there, Carol. I promise you, I'm going to get you out of this." Even as the words left his lips Daryl had no idea how he was going to deliver on his promise. The bank closest to them was full of Walkers and the other side of the river was too big of a distance to be able to help Carol across the fast flowing water. If he'd been doing it alone, Daryl thought he could have made it but with Carol barely able to hold her head up now, there was no way he'd be able to hold onto her and get them both across. And then what if he did manage to get them across to the other side by some kind of miracle? Rick had barely been gone fifteen minutes. There was no way he'd be back at the prison yet. For the first time Daryl truly felt the hopelessness of the situation pushing in on him.

His chest tightened as he looked down at Carol's too pale face, lips almost blue from the cold of the river and loss of blood. Guilt tore at him. Carol shouldn't be here, fighting for her life. Merle should never have involved her in their shit and Daryl gritted his teeth at the surge of anger he felt for his brother. The man may be dead, but he was still managing to fuck Daryl's life over from beyond the grave. At the same time Daryl couldn't help but miss the giant personality of his brother. Some part of him remained the little brother, waiting for the big brother to appear and take over. Knowing he'd never be able to look to Merle for anything ever again, as unreliable as he'd been, still felt like a huge loss to Daryl. He was out of ideas and all Daryl could do was hold onto Carol and try and protect her from the hard force of the river while watching her slowly leave him. Daryl gave a choked sob and pressed his forehead hard against hers. "No," he pleaded with her in agony, "please, Carol, don't you leave me too. Please, I'll do anythin', just stay with me." Carol's eyes were barely open as he searched her face, desperate for some kind of response, to know that she'd heard him.

She sagged a little and Daryl was forced to step in closer, pressing her body further into the rock at her back to keep her upright. The tantalising thought of giving up slithered its way into his brain. All he'd have to do was pull Carol away from that rock and hang onto her tightly and they'd both be swept away. Daryl had heard tell drowning was a peaceful way to go. It kind of felt like they both deserved some peace at long last. It would be so easy, just lean to the right and take Carol with him. The temptation danced in Daryl's exhausted mind, whispering to just let go. They'd both struggled for survival for so long, did there come a time when there was no reason to go on? Too much longer in this river and Carol was going to be dead. Daryl had no way of getting her out of the river, so what really was the point of anything anymore? His shoulders sagged, trying to find a reason to go on in a world without Carol in it but could think of nothing. That kind of future just seemed impossibly black. Being with Carol, knowing she cared for him and was looking out for him over anyone else was like little rays of light in the darkness of this world and without them, Daryl couldn't see his way forward. "I'm not lettin' you leave me," he said raggedly as his grip on Carol tightened. "If you're leavin', I'm comin' to," Daryl vowed unsteadily. He wrapped his body around her too cold one and held on tightly, breath coming in noisy rasps as he started to shake. Daryl wanted to tell Carol he loved her, even though she most likely couldn't hear anymore but the unfamiliar words stuck in his throat. He'd let her into every part of his being, that was his I love you's to this woman. Daryl knew Carol would understand and had a fleeting thought if she'd loved him. It didn't matter one way or the other. Daryl's love when given was non-refundable. It became a part of who he was and there was nothing to be done about it. Carol didn't have to love him back but Daryl knew he was going to die loving her.

He pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tears flowing freely from his eyes and becoming lost in the brown water swirling around them. "I'm so sorry, Carol. Please, please forgive me." Daryl gathered her more fully into his arms and gave a last thought to the possibility of there being any kind of afterlife. If there was, he couldn't help but wonder what the chances of he and Carol ending up in the same place would be. Pretty slim it seemed to Daryl but death was going to have a hell of a job on its hands trying to let Daryl go of the woman in his arms. With that last determined thought, Daryl started to lean out to his right, keeping a hold of Carol as he did. The force of the water became more violent as they moved away from the bracing rock and Daryl was struggling to keep his footing. He was about to give up that struggle when there was the sound of a car horn beeping long and loud from a distance. Daryl froze and immediately pushed Carol more securely up against the rock again. He twisted around with his upper body, looking back over his shoulder just as a four-wheel drive drove into sight, heading towards them at speed. Daryl strained to see who was behind the wheel, even as he dared to hope salvation was barrelling down on them. As the car drew closer Daryl could see Rick in the driver's seat and Daryl let out a choked cry of relief. He and Carl must have come across the abandoned car on their way back to the prison. It was nothing short of a miracle.

The sight of rescue heading their way brought Daryl back from the brink of desperation. He turned back to Carol. "It's okay," he said excitedly. "Rick's here. We're gonna get you back to the prison. It's all gonna be fine, Carol, you just gotta hang on a little longer, you hear me?" It felt like everyone had been telling Carol to hang on, not much longer for forever now, but this time, Daryl really felt it was true.

The four wheel drive stopped on top of the bridge and Rick quickly jumped out. He ran to the side of the bridge and shouted down to Daryl over the railing. "Daryl, how is she?!"

"Bad!" shouted back Daryl over the roar of the water. "We gotta get her out of this water."

Rick gave a determined nod of his head and immediately started to take stock of the situation. He quickly sized up the number of Walkers on the far bank and then looked to the other side. Rick pointed his finger to the far side. "Can you see any Walkers that side?" he yelled to Daryl.

Daryl had a look for good measure from his vantage point but he already knew the answer to the question. "No!"

"I'm comin' to get you!" called out Rick. He pointed at the Walker-free bank. "From that side."

Daryl glanced back over at the Walkers which had just worked out where the beeping had come from and were starting to hone in on Rick and the car. They were leaving the bank and making the short distance towards where the car was parked on the bridge. There was no way Rick would be able to help him get Carol out of the water before those things were all over their only means of escape.

"Carl!" called out Rick to his son. "You gotta drive the car. Lead the Walkers away from the bridge to give me and Daryl time to get Carol to safety, then double back around and come get us."

Daryl couldn't hear Carl's response but Rick was still standing by the bridge railing when the engine of the all-terrain vehicle roared into life. The car bunny hopped at the start but then it was taking off at a decent speed, horn beeping as Carl mowed his way through the first wave of Walkers who'd made it to the beginning of the bridge. With the motor revving and the horn blaring, the rest of the Walkers were immediately attracted to all the commotion. They blindly followed after Carl in the four wheel drive, as the boy would slow the car down and let them catch up and then floor it to get out of the way. The proverbial carrot on a stick. Meanwhile Rick was running to the other end of the bridge, racing to get to Daryl and Carol. He got to the river bank and waded in without hesitation. Daryl held on securely to Carol as he watched Rick determinedly make his way through the churning, mud-filled water. The water only ended up coming to the other man's chest at the deepest point and that gave Daryl hope they would be able to get Carol across between them.

Rick had reached them and Daryl could see the concern on the other man's face when he saw the state Carol was in. They exchanged grim looks but then that determined look was back on Rick's face. "We can do this," he said, almost sternly, daring Daryl to disagree with him.

Daryl wasn't about to do anything of the kind, instantly feeling stronger just knowing Rick was there and fighting alongside him for Carol's life.

Rick manoeuvred himself so that he was on the other side of Carol and then they were moving away from the rock, the two men flanking the semi-conscious Carol who was fading in and out. They linked arms across her back and dug deep to fight against the fury of the rain-swollen river. Daryl's muscles were shaking from the sheer exhaustion of having already been fighting with this aggressive water for so long. He just fixed his eyes on the river bank ahead of them and gritted his teeth, forcing one foot in front of the other. It seemed to take forever when it was only probably a few minutes but between them, he and Rick managed to get Carol to the other side of the bank. Rick took more of Carol's weight as Daryl stumbled a little, legs shaking so badly coming out of that water he was having trouble standing. Daryl scrambled to his feet, not willing to fail Carol now and took back his share of her weight. They made unsteady progress up the slippery bank, Carol a dead weight between them now. Off in the distance Daryl could hear the sound of Carl honking the horn. The noise was getting louder as he and Rick finally managed to make it up the bank to stand at the end of the bridge. Up to their left, about ten Walkers had appeared out of the trees, attracted by all the noise. They were still a fairly good distance away, but it wouldn't take them long to get to the three of them.

"Come on, Carl," muttered Rick under his breath as both men looked to their right to see where the boy was at.

Carl had swung the car around and was now heading in their direction again, only his hat visible over the steering wheel. The sound of the engine straining in too low of a gear for the speed the car was travelling at could be heard over even the sound of the rushing water of the river.

"Carl and me need to spend some more time teachin' him to drive properly," observed Rick to no one in particular as he kept his eyes fixed on the car heading their way.

Daryl didn't care in that moment if the kid stripped every gear that car had, as long as he got it to them in time. Carl zoomed past the Walkers, a few of them bouncing off the front and side of the car as he whizzed by. Then he was screeching to a halt in front of them, throwing up mud from the wet road.

Rick pulled open the back door. "Good job," he called out to Carl.

"Hurry," Carl advised them as he twisted around to watch them load Carol into the back seat of the car. He straightened back around to give a nervous look at the Walkers barely twenty feet from where they were parked.

Daryl scrambled in first, reaching to pull Carol into the car, with Rick helping guide her into the seat. They were being too rough with the injured woman as they dragged and pushed her into the car, both men knew it but there was nothing to be done if they didn't want to all end up as Walker chow.

"Dad!" cried out Carl anxiously, the front Walker almost on top of them now.

"I'm comin'," said Rick, hastily closing the door and running around to the passenger side. He leapt into the car. "GO!"

Carl pressed the gas pedal to the floor but didn't remember to put the car back in first before he did. The car stalled, lurching forward violently. Daryl was forced to grab Carol to stop her from being flung off the back seat. "Shit!" he called out sharply. "Go easy."

Carl was fumbling with the ignition, struggling to find the right gear as the first Walker, a grey-haired woman wearing what probably used to be a pink blouse, reached their car. It thumped its decaying hands down on the hood, clawing at the metal. The creature could see its food, but was having difficulty working out how to get to it. Daryl knew that wouldn't last long and if this woman didn't get them, then the growing herd behind her would. Carl was starting to panic, his breathing rapid as he worked frantically to get the car into gear. More Walkers were joining the woman and they were appearing at the windows, rotten fingernails scratching against the glass as they tried to get at all that food inside. The car started to rock.

Rick's voice, calm and authoritative cut through their snarling and snapping. "Carl, stop." The tone of Rick's voice had Carl obeying without question. His father's next order was spoken as though they had all the time in the world. "Take a deep breath." Carl drew in a shaky one as Rick continued on. "Now, put your foot on the clutch," he waited until the boy had complied, "and now turn on the engine." Rick put his hand on gear stick and moved it into first gear. "Now slowly release the clutch." Carl complied and they were moving forward. "A little more gas," Rick advised him as the Walkers clung onto the car for dear life. The car sped up some. "Clutch." Carl pushed in the pedal and Rick moved them up to the next gear, the car picking up speed. He looked over at his son. "You got it now?"

Carl's nodded, sending his dad a look of relief. "Yeah, thanks."

"It's okay," said Rick easily, ignoring the fact a few tenacious Walkers were still managing to hang onto the hood of the car. "Let's just get some speed up to get through that herd up ahead, okay?"

Carl nodded again, gripping the wheel tightly and this time he was able to change smoothly into third as he sped up and mowed his way through the hungry creatures in front of him. The car jostled a bit as Walkers bounced off the car and he drove over the top of more. Daryl just hung on tightly to Carol, trying to absorb as much as the impact for her as he was able. Eventually the last Walker was dislodged; the one who'd reached them first. The grey-haired woman lost her grip and slid down the hood, disappearing under the car and was lost from view. They drove on for another mile, making sure there was a good distance between them and the herd at the bridge.

Rick placed a hand on Carl's shoulder. "Pull over here, Carl. I'll drive now." He gave the boy a warm smile. "You did great."

Carl looked relieved and pleased to get his father's praise as he slowed the car down but then pulled a face. "I screwed up at the bridge," he noted unhappily.

"No," Rick disagreed with him, "you listened to what I told you and you got us all out. I'm real proud of you, Carl."

Daryl watched the father/son from the back seat as he cradled Carol in his arms and felt a pang of loss over witnessing a type of bonding he'd never known. They were lucky to still have each other, someone to tie them to this world and have something worth fighting for. Daryl looked down at Carol as she lay unconscious in his arms and thought about the bonds which tied them. He raised a shaking hand and brushed way a piece of leaf from Carol's face which she'd carried out of the river with her. Daryl's hands were cold but Carol's face felt colder. It was frightening. Daryl barely noticed Rick changing seats with his son and the car taking off and driving again. All of his attention was focused on Carol, willing her to live. Daryl's eyes were fixated on her chest, watching for the rise and fall of shallow breaths being taken. He felt like he was the one anchoring her to this world and if he took his eyes off her for a moment, she was going to be lost to him. Every last bit of Daryl's energy was poured into Carol, silently commanding her to stay with him because he was going to stay with her, no matter what.

**oooOOOOoooo**

Glenn paced back and forth at the front gate. He'd lost the argument he'd had with the rest of the group about going out to look for the others. They'd been gone for nearly a day now. That wasn't good. Glenn didn't even know if they'd found Carol and Daryl yet. He grimaced, he had a bad feeling about all of this. Maybe it was time to go and present his case to the others again and see if he could get group consensus in his favour this time? If it was taking this long for at least some of the others to get back to the prison, then they must have run into real trouble. Glenn felt like he needed to be doing something and walking around in circles wasn't cutting it. He glanced over at the prison and wondered idly how their newest guest was going. The Michonne woman hadn't exactly been talkative as he helped her back to the prison and she wasn't a big one for thank you's either. Hershel had treated her leg while she glared at them all mistrustfully. There had been no discussion required when it came to deciding to lock Michonne in one of the cells. She may be wounded but there was no doubting she was a woman who knew how to look after herself. Glenn wondered, not for the first time, if she had anything to do with the Woodbury group. If she did, was anyone going to come looking for her? The question worried Glenn and he knew he wasn't alone in that.

"HEY!"

The long-distance shout from behind him had Glenn turning around to look back at the watchtower. Axel was standing at the railing and pointing out at the road.

"A CAR'S COMIN'!" hollered Axel so Glenn could hear him.

Glenn looked back at the road, squinting off in the distance to be able to see what Axel was seeing from his vantage point. A car. He had no idea if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it was people from Woodbury, intent on tracking down Michonne? Maybe it was Merle, looking to take them all out in some kind of crazy, Kamikaze last act of insanity? Glenn gripped the rifle in his hand more tightly and walked up to the fence, body tensing. He could hear the rumble of a diesel engine now, drawing closer. Up ahead a four wheel drive rounded a curve and came into view. Glenn didn't know the car and his nerves tightened.

"CAN YOU SEE WHO IT IS?" bellowed Axel.

"NOT YET!" shouted back Glenn over his shoulder and then all of his attention was on the approaching vehicle. He strained his eyes, trying to see who was at the wheel of the car, hoping for the best, preparing for the worst. Glenn lifted his rifle and looked through the sights and immediately saw Rick's face come into view. He automatically dropped the nose of the rifle, relief flooding through his body. "IT'S RICK!" he yelled excitedly up to Axel. Glenn scrambled to unlock the gate because the car wasn't slowing down. He pulled on the sliding metal gate just as the car reached them. Rick drove right on through, not slowing down. As they'd passed, Glenn had seen Daryl in the backseat and Carl's hat-covered head in the front seat but no Carol. There was a lead weight in Glenn's stomach as he hastily locked the gate behind them and broke into a run, chasing after the car and desperate to know what had happened. Rick drove the car right up to the watch tower as Glenn chased after them. Glenn watched Rick leap out of the car and run around to the back.

Rick called out to him. "Glenn, quick, Carol's been hurt real bad, we need to get her to Hershel." His attention was now on his son. "Carl, run up and let Hershel know we're comin' and that he needs to get ready."

"Okay," said Carl, leaping out of the car and immediately breaking into a sprint as he headed back towards their cellblock.

Glenn had caught them up now and was by Rick's side as he opened the backseat door. Carol was stretched out on the back seat, Daryl cradling her in his arms. They were both wet and Daryl was covered in cuts and bruises and looked like he'd been to hell and back. But it was Carol Glenn couldn't take his eyes off. Her entire midriff area was covered in blood and she looked as white as a ghost. "What happened?" he asked in distress, even as he moved to help Rick carefully move Carol out of the car.

"Merle shot her," said Rick grimly. "She's lost a lot of blood."

Glenn's face flushed with anger. Why Carol? She'd never done anything to him? "Tell me he's dead," he ground out furiously.

"He's dead," rasped Daryl from the back seat. The man looked utterly spent.

Glenn felt a flash of guilt for wishing Daryl's brother dead but didn't have it in him to take it back. Merle was a danger to himself and everyone around him. Glenn couldn't be anything other than ecstatic the guy was dead. Rick and he had Carol between them now as Daryl slowly followed them out of the car. He was shaking badly and was almost as pale as Carol. Stumbling getting out of the car, Daryl ended up on his knees in the grass, clutching onto the open back door.

"Take it easy, Daryl," Rick instructed him quickly. "Me and Glenn have got Carol. You just rest up now."

Glenn expected Daryl to argue but instead he just nodded mutely, eyes fixated on Carol. It was like Daryl had given everything to get Carol to this point and there was nothing left.

Rick was moving. "Gotta hurry, Carol's real weak."

Glenn fell into step with him hastily, helping to carry the barely conscious Carol up to gate which led to their secured cell block. They were at the gate which stood between them and the cellblock when Glenn glanced back over his shoulder, worried about Daryl and saw the other man hadn't moved. Daryl was still kneeling there, clutching onto the car door, seemingly unable to move. Suddenly Glenn saw movement behind Daryl. A Walker, missing both of its legs and with half the flesh torn from its face, grey hair matted with dark blood, was crawling towards Daryl from under the car. It must have been stuck under the car or something but now it was free and looking to make a meal out of the broken Dixon boy. Glenn stiffened, his eyes going wide. "DARYL!" he yelled out, too far away to get to him in time. "LOOK OUT!" Rick's head snapped up and he looked back over to the car and Daryl as well. Neither men could do anything to get to Daryl in time as the mangled Walker managed to lunge out at Daryl, wrapping its arms around his neck. Glenn's heart was pounding in his chest as the whole scene played out in a split second. The too weak Daryl was unable to fight the snapping woman off and as she raised her head, reading to sink its teeth into Daryl's shoulder, suddenly her whole head exploded and there was the sound of a gunshot volleying around the prison. Both he and Rick gave a gasp of surprise and looked over to where the shot had come from. Axel was standing at the foot of the watchtower, his rifle still raised from having taken the shot which killed the Walker set on taking a piece out of Daryl. "Whoa," said Glenn in surprise. Daryl seemed to be in shock as he looked back at the gory mess of the Walker which had fallen off him after being shot by Axel.

"You okay?" Glenn heard Axel ask the other man in concern.

Daryl looked slowly back at Axel but then the youngest Dixon brother finally appeared to succumb to what looked like the fairly traumatic events of the last couple of days. Daryl passed out, slumping down onto the ground into a crumpled heap of unconsciousness...


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N****: So, one of my eagle-eyed readers noticed Carl disappeared in the last scene of the last chapter... you're right, dang it. LOL I forgot about little Carl. . It bugged me so I tweaked the last scene to have him reappear again. Nobody is probably interested, but I just thought I'd let you know. ;) **

**And yes, I know, I've been very tardy with this latest chapter and you've all been so wonderfully patient. I'm afraid exhausted doesn't explain how I feel with my current work schedule. I've got another 7 days of work before I get two days off in a row. I CAN'T WAIT! Having one day off every 13 just doesn't cut it unfortunately. **

**Anyways, enough whining from me. I've made you wait long enough for this chapter. Let's see what knew horror I can dream up for these characters, eh? ;) Only four more chapters to go and this beast will be finished. Can you believe it? **

**Thanks, as always for sticking with this story. You're all amazeballs... isn't that what the kids of today are saying? LOL **

**Chapter Forty Six**

"Love built on pain-the kind that lasts: whatever you love can be taken away from us at any moment but the loss of what we love belongs to us forever."

~Louise Doughty~

_Whatever You Love_

The darkness was all around Daryl, his slumber one of pure exhaustion which had no strength for dreams. One thing penetrated that darkness though. Her screams ripped through him, causing Daryl to clench up in his sleep. Carol's cries chased the inky blackness away as Daryl blinked awake. Instead of the screams disappearing though, they grew louder. It took an instance for Daryl to realise Carol's screams weren't part of his nightmares but real and happening right now. He went to leap out of bed and run to her, not even knowing where he was and not caring. Daryl's still fatigued muscles refused to co-operate and he fell out of bed, hitting the cold concrete floor with a thud. Carol's screams were still bouncing around the uncaring concrete walls and Daryl forced himself to his feet, grabbing onto the top of the bunk bed beside him to stop himself from falling again. His legs were shaking badly but sheer force of will had Daryl taking unsteady steps forward. A part of his brain recognised he was in a cell. Jumbled fragments of the last couple of days came back to him. Merle dying, not once, but twice, Carol getting shot, Walkers, Rick and Carl, the water. Daryl's brain was on overload as his memories threatened to overwhelm him. He pushed them impatiently to one side, not needing them now. All Daryl needed was to get to Carol and kill whoever was making her scream like that. He was staggering out of his cell, running into the railing which stopped people from falling over the side onto the ground below. Carol's groaning screams were coming from his right and Daryl was trying to get his legs to run towards them. "Carol," he rasped, wanting to let her know he was coming.

Suddenly Glenn was stepping out in front of him, grabbing his shoulders. "Daryl, wait, it's okay."

Daryl worked to focus on the other man's concerned face. "Get outta my way," he growled unsteadily.

Glenn didn't budge, keeping his body between Daryl and where Carol's cries were coming from. "Hershel is operating," he said quickly, expression serious. "It's the only way. We don't have anything to knock Carol out with." Abruptly Carol stopped mid-scream. Glenn sent an anxious look over his shoulder and then was back looking at Daryl with feigned confidence. "It's okay. Carol's just passed out from the pain, that's a good thing, she's not going to feel the rest of the surgery."

A part of Daryl knew Glenn wouldn't lie to him and that what he was saying was true. A bigger part of him needed to be with Carol and see for himself. "I've gotta see her," he rasped. "She needs me."

"She needs Hershel," said Glenn determinedly. "That's why you fought so hard to get Carol back here, remember? Hershel is doing everything he can for Carol. We just have to stay out of his way and let him do his thing."

Daryl slumped against the railing, knowing Glenn was right. He ran a shaking hand over his face. "How-how long have I been out?"

"Nearly six hours."

Daryl's eyes snapped open. "What? How could you let me sleep that long?" he asked in frustration.

"You weren't asleep, you were unconscious," Glenn informed him. "And you needed it." He jerked his head down to the bottom floor. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."

Daryl stared at him like he was insane. "I can't eat now." Carol was being ripped open it sounded like, there was no guarantee she was going to survive such rudimentary surgery and Glenn was talking about food. If Daryl had the strength, he would have punched him.

"Do you even know the last time you ate?" Glenn challenged him. He looked Daryl over. "You're a mess and you need looking after."

"I can take care of myself," growled Daryl.

Quick as a flash Glenn snapped out a hand and pushed on Daryl's chest. Daryl had no reflexes to stop him and even less to absorb the impact. He fell backwards onto the ground.

Glenn looked shocked before hastily going to help Daryl back up. "Okay, I didn't expect that. I was just trying to make a point but you're in worse shape than I thought." He hauled Daryl to his feet and then put one Daryl's arms around his neck to help support the beaten down man further. "Come on, downstairs and eat something."

"I ain't hungry," protested Daryl weakly, even as he tried to break away from Glenn's hold with little success. Daryl looked back over his shoulder. "Carol-"

"I'm doing this for Carol and you should be too," said Glenn firmly as he refused to let go of Daryl and started to walk them towards the stairs leading to the ground floor. "I'm not going to be the one to explain to her how we let you get too sick to eat. She'll need to know you're taking care of yourself, Daryl, otherwise there will be hell to pay." Glenn sent him an earnest look. "I'm not going to be the one to disappoint Carol, are you?"

Glenn's words defeated Daryl and he gave up, letting the younger man lead him downstairs. He appreciated the way Glenn was talking about Carol as though she was going to be back with them soon. Daryl needed to hear that certainty in another person's voice. He collapsed onto the seat at the table and buried his head in his hands as Glenn went to get him some food. Daryl became conscious of the feeling of being stared at and he looked up and around. In the corner of the room, the woman they'd found with Carl was propped up against the wall, peeling potatoes. Daryl glared at her. "What is she doin' here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she returned coolly, continuing to peel the potatoes.

"Why ain't she in a cell?" Daryl demanded to know, his temper fray along with the rest of his nerves.

Glenn walked over with a bowl full of stew. "We needed the extra hands on deck. Hershel and Beth have been caught up taking care of Carol and we've all been taking turns with Judith."

Daryl looked around, trying to get his bearings. "Where is everyone?" he asked tightly. He shot a wary, distrusting look at the woman.

"Axel and Rick are on watch duty, Beth and Maggie are helping Hershel with the surgery and Carl has taken Judith for some fresh air," explained Glenn.

Fresh air was code for somewhere away from where the little baby wouldn't be able to hear Carol's screams. Daryl looked away, glad that both Judith and Carl weren't there to hear Carol's cries. They didn't need that, particularly Carl after having watched his mother get cut open not so long ago.

"Eat," Glenn reminded him, inclining his head towards the bowl of stew.

Daryl reluctantly picked up a spoon and stared down at the contents of the bowl. The smell of the food wafted up to him and despite himself, Daryl's stomach growled loudly, reminding him it had indeed been a long time since he'd eaten.

"You need me to feed you?"

Daryl's eyes snapped up and he glared at Glenn for even daring to suggest such a thing.

"Thank God," said Glenn in obvious relief to Daryl's silent response. "I'd like for there to still be some kind of thin veil of mystery between us." He pointed to Daryl's clothes. "That's why you're still in those clothes. We were all too scared to put clean ones on you."

"Smart," rasped Daryl, looking down at his food again.

"Yeah, well," said Glenn with a little shrug as he took a seat across from Daryl, "you don't get this far into a zombie apocalypse without learning a few tricks - like keep up your cardio, don't go anywhere unarmed, and don't get anywhere near a naked redneck, if you can avoid it."

Daryl gave a grunt. "Looks like you Asians are as smart as folks say after all."

Glenn half-smiled and Daryl almost managed one over their teasing of each other. Daryl appreciated Glenn trying to take his mind off things but he needed to know what was going on. "If I've been unconscious six hours, why is Hershel only operatin' on Carol now?"

"Eat something and I'll answer that question."

Daryl's stomach growled again at the mention of food so he quickly took a mouthful of the stew, barely tasting it as he looked at Glenn. "Well?"

"You two were in a bad way when Rick got you back here," Glenn filled in Daryl's missing time. "After you passed out, we took you up to a cell to sleep it off. Hershel came and checked on you after he was done settling Carol."

"How bad is it?" rasped Daryl, scared of the answer.

"She's lost a lot of blood," said Glenn regretfully. "Hershel cleaned out Carol's wound and stitched up both sides but when she kept bleeding, he figured there might still be something in the wound."

Daryl scowled in worry. "The bullet went straight through. I saw the bullet hole in the cabin wall."

"Hershel thought a bit of Carol's rib might have been broken off and it was caught up in her wound. He made the decision to reopen it and see if he could find anything." Glenn rubbed the back of his neck. "He knew it was a risk with how weak Carol is right now but that wound isn't going to heal properly with a chunk of bone or whatever it is in there."

Daryl closed his eyes, wondering just how much more they could expect Carol's body to take. She'd been hauled around the woods, made to run with a hole in her side and most likely cracked ribs and then dunked into a freezing river. Carol should be dead already. The fact that she wasn't was a miracle but how more this miracle had left in it was the big question. The question Daryl feared the answer to.

"Keep eating," Glenn reminded him. "You know how Hershel is about folks who don't finish his famous stew."

Daryl ate automatically, not thinking about what he was doing at all. His entire focus was what was happening in the cell above their heads. Glenn cleared the bowl away after Daryl was done eating, seeming to be happy to have something to occupy himself with. Daryl knew Glenn's presence here was because of Michonne. Rick might have been forced to let her out of the cell to put her to work when their resources were stretched so thin, but there was no way he was going to let this stranger walk among them freely. Daryl ignored the newcomer, not caring about her now, just wanting some word on Carol. He both needed Hershel to appear and dreaded it, fearful of the news the older man might bring with him. While Hershel remained up there with Carol, it meant she was still alive and he was fighting for her life. A sudden appearance by Hershel might mean that fight was over with. The contents of Daryl's newly filled stomach heaved at the very thought. Daryl leaned on the table in front of him, fretfully gnawing at the quick around his thumbnail. An old, bad habit which betrayed his nerves, Daryl didn't even realise he was doing it. Suddenly, above them, there was the sound of feet on the walkway. Daryl leapt up, his feet steadier after the meal and he craned his neck up to see what was going on. Maggie and Beth were walking along the walkway carrying bowls of water and blood stained gauze.

Glenn called out to them. "How is Carol?" Daryl could hear the trepidation in the other man's voice.

It was Hershel's voice which answered them as he appeared at the railing to talk down to them. "She's hanging in there." He smiled a tired smile. "They breed 'em tough in the South."

"Did you find what was makin' her bleed?" asked Daryl anxiously.

Hershel nodded. "I was right. A bit of broken rib was caught up in Carol's wound. It was a hell of a thing to get it out."

Daryl couldn't help the shudder which ran through him, remembering Carol's excruciating screams.

"I've sewn up the wound again, hopefully I've gotten it clean this time." Hershel looked over at Daryl. "I see you're back with us, son. I reckon I should give you another look over."

"I'm fine," said Daryl dismissively, thoughts consumed with Carol.

"Good, then it won't take long," said Hershel, pragmatic as always. "Now, come on up her, son, lessin' you're lookin' to makin' a poor, one-legged man climb a set stairs he don't gotta."

Daryl wasn't fooled by Hershel. The old man was as nimble as any of them on those stairs but Daryl had a suspicious Hershel wanted to see what state Daryl was in when he climbed them. Hershel was definitely no one's fool. Daryl wanted more information on Carol, so he gave in without any further fighting. He walked up the stairs, not as fast as he'd have liked, but as quickly as he could manage without falling back down them.

Hershel inclined his head towards the cell Daryl had woken up in. "Come on in and take a seat."

Daryl walked past Hershel and sat down on the bottom bunk, while Hershel manoeuvred himself onto the end of the bed. "How is Carol really?" asked Daryl, his voice low and full of worry.

Hershel sighed heavily. "I'm not gonna lie to you, son," he said seriously. "Carol's lost a lot of blood and is carryin' a fever right now."

"A fever?" repeated Daryl fearfully.

"I reckon it's from the shock of all that blood loss." He grimaced. "Maybe even her body tryin' to burn out any bacteria she picked up in that river."

Daryl felt guilt slice through him. "That was me," he said, voice cracking. "I took Carol into the river." A river full of mud and dirt and God only knows what else, all with her having an open wound in her side. He was so stupid.

"You did the only think you coulda done in the circumstances," Hershel countered, easily reading the self-condemnation on the younger man's face. "There ain't no blame to be laid her, son, so don't you be startin' with it." He put a fatherly hand on Daryl's shoulder. "Besides, that water may well have saved Carol's life. It was so cold, it closed her system down, stemmed some of the blood loss. That water may have been the one thing keepin' her alive long enough for Rick to come and fetch you both." Hershel's look was sympathetic. "That's the world we live in now, Daryl. Choices ain't simple, they come with consequences, some good, some bad. You did the best by Carol any person in this world coulda been expected to do and then some. She's got a chance at makin' it through this because of you."

"How much of a chance?" croaked Daryl.

"Son, if there is one thing I know for certain in this world is to never bet against the stubbornness of a woman." Hershel smiled. "Carol is tough and determined. I ain't gonna put a number on either one of those things."

In a moment of weakness Daryl spoke from his heart. "I can't lose her," he confessed raggedly.

Hershel's reply was quiet. "I know."

"I gotta be with her," said Daryl urgently.

"You need to rest," disagreed Hershel. "You ain't no use to nobody in the state you're in."

"Carol needs me," insisted Daryl stubbornly. It was stupid and probably crazy but Daryl was mortally afraid that without him there to anchor Carol to this world, she was going to slip away. Something had to hold her to this world and Daryl needed to be that something. He didn't know how to put it into words, but that feeling of needing to be there, to will Carol to keep on fighting was back and stronger than ever. "I gotta be with her."

Hershel looked him over, seeming to understand his desperation. "Let me fix you up some and you need some fresh clothes. No offence, son, but you smell like a fart in a bottle. Carol don't need to wake up to that." He wrinkled his nose. "None of us do."

Daryl looked down at his ragged and stained clothes and couldn't even imagine what the rest of him must look like.

"Get cleaned up, I'll fix up those cuts you got and then I'll let you see my patient," said Hershel firmly.

That seemed like a good deal to Daryl so he didn't argue. Half an hour later, after getting cleaned and patched up, he was finally allowed to go and see Carol under Hershel's watchful supervision. Daryl stepped into Carol's cell, walking over to her and looking down at the sleeping woman. It was frightening how pale she was, skin almost translucent from all of her traumas. Daryl put out a shaking hand to touch her face and was surprised at how warm her skin was. The fever was still with her and new fear coiled in Daryl's stomach. "I ain't leavin' her," he warned Hershel, ready to fight tooth and nail to stay exactly where he was.

"I know," said Hershel simply. "Pull down the beddin' from the top bunk and you can stay on the floor beside her. That way I can check on both of you at the same time."

Daryl sent him a grateful look. "Thank you."

"I'm just bein' economical with my time," said Hershel calmly. "Now, you call out if you need me, you hear?"

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, I will."

Hershel headed off as Daryl quickly pulled down the mattress, blanket and pillow from the top bunk. He threw the makeshift bed down, not caring about setting it up properly before he lay down on top of the bedding. Daryl angled his head on the pillow so he could watch Carol as she slept, not wanting to take his eyes off her. "I'm here, Carol," he reassured her quietly. "And I'm waitin'. You don't gotta wake up yet, just know when you do, I'll be here." There was no indication Carol had heard his voice but Daryl didn't care. She knew he was there, he didn't know how, but he just knew it. Daryl settled in, knowing this was going probably going to be a long wait and knowing he wasn't going to be going anywhere until Carol had opened her eyes and said his name. He wasn't sure how much later it was when Daryl heard Rick return. He heard the quiet conference of voices as the other man was filled in on the situation. Then there was the sound of Rick's feet climbing the steps and walking along the line of cells, stopping when he got to where he and Carol were. Daryl didn't take his eyes off Carol as he lay there beside her bed but he could hear the clink of metal. "You ain't puttin' those things on her." He turned his head to look at Rick now and saw he'd been right.

Rick looked down at the handcuffs in his hand and then back at Daryl, his expression full of regret and understanding. They both knew Carol could easily slip away in her sleep and then turn before anyone knew what was happening.

Daryl knew he was in a potentially life-threatening position by choosing to stay by her side like this. It was unlikely he'd be able to stay awake for as long as he needed to. Already Daryl could feel the exhaustion returning to his bones. Asleep, he'd be unaware and vulnerable to any kind of attack. Daryl didn't raise his voice but there was no mistaking the steely determination in his tone. "Carol's been tied up enough these last coupla days. I ain't lettin' anyone do that to her again."

Rick grimaced. "Daryl-"

"It ain't happenin', Rick," said Daryl sharply. "You do what you gotta do, but you're gonna have to do it through me."

Daryl knew he was being irrational and Rick was only trying to protect them all, Daryl included but the thought of Carol being chained up again was too much for Daryl to contemplate. There was so little he could do for her right now, but he could do this. The two men shared a look of understanding and then Rick did something Daryl hadn't really expected, he slipped his handcuffs back into his back pocket. Daryl gave a small nod of his head, acknowledging the act of faith and Rick returned it. Without saying anything, Rick sat down on the floor outside of Carol's cell and settled back against the metal railing. Daryl relaxed a little, confident Rick was going to keep his silent word to him. He settled back down on his pillow, returning to listening intently to each shallow breath Carol was taking. All of his attention was back on Carol, willing her to fight her way back to him and not to give up. It was all down to Carol now, this was her fight to face. The thought was a hard one for Daryl to accept, wanting to be able to do something but there was nothing to be done except wait.

And maybe pray.

**oooOOOOooo**

Carol opened her eyes and looked around her. She was back in her cell, tucked up in her bed.

"Momma."

The sound of her daughter calling for her had Carol sitting up in her bed and hurrying out of her little cell. She walked swiftly down the walkway and then stopped when she heard Sophia's voice again.

"Momma."

Carol's head snapped around and she immediately saw Sophia, dressed in her pink party dress, standing at the back of the cell. She quickly moved to go to her but the door of the cell was closed. Carol shook on the bars, trying to get it to open. "No!" she cried out emotionally. Sophia was so close, they could be together if she could just get this door open. "Sophia," sobbed Carol, closing her eyes as she stretched out her hand as far as it could go through the bars, desperate not to lose her daughter again. "Sophia, please." Being apart from her daughter was like a thousand little deaths on a daily basis.

"I know, Momma," she heard her daughter's quiet voice, full of sympathy. "I miss you too."

Her words made Carol's heart break in two and pain-filled tears were squeezed out behind her tightly closed eyes.

Suddenly a hand was taking her outstretched one. "Don't leave me."

The quiet plea came with the warmth of a hand Carol could feel wrapping around hers. The way that hand held onto her so tightly, threading its fingers through hers, like it would never let her go again spoke of a need Carol knew instantly. How often had she held onto Sophia's hand that way, clinging to the one good thing in her life? In that moment Carol knew where she belonged, where she was supposed to be and she squeezed the hand clinging so tightly to hers, silently letting them know she wasn't going to let them go either, not this time...


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N****: Hello, gentle reader. I'm so sorry my updates have slowed to this point. :( I'm incredibly excited to have two days off in a row coming up on Monday, so I really hope I'll be able to get another chapter out during that time. Got a lot of things to do in that time, but I'm going to give it my best shot. ;) **

**This chapter feels a little anti-climactic to me, but I suppose I have traumatised you quite a bit with this story, so maybe that's a good thing. LOL I'm way behind on answering all of your wonderfully amazing and supportive reviews. Sorry about that. . I'll try and get onto that tonight. **

**Otherwise, here is the chapter. I can't believe we're so close to the end! **

**Hope you enjoy...**

**Chapter Forty Seven**

Michonne looked up as Hershel unlocked her cell and limped in.

"Good mornin'," he said cordially.

Michonne inclined her head by way of greeting. She watched the old man take a seat on the end of her bed.

"How's the leg today?"

"Fine," she said shortly.

Hershel gave a dry laugh. "All these patients and everyone says they're fine. Well, the ones who are awake anyways."

Michonne allowed herself a moment of rare curiosity. "How is the woman, the one they brought back yesterday?"

Hershel glanced at her while he examined the dressing on Michonne's leg. "Carol made it through the night. I'm countin' that as a win."

Michonne had been trying to get a fix on these people. They were an odd group, but then, after the end of the world, there were a lot of odd people finding each other. She felt a brief pang at the thought of Andrea and the way she'd chosen that smiling psychopath over her and then was annoyed with herself for still caring. But she did. Michonne couldn't believe the tough, no nonsense woman she'd spent the winter with could fall for the Governor's Stepford community bullshit. The man wasn't right but if tanks full of severed heads didn't open Andrea's eyes up to what kind of man she was giving her allegiance to, then Michonne had to accept Andrea didn't want to see what was right in front of her. Michonne couldn't fathom accepting a pretty lie over an ugly reality because that pretty lie always came for you in the end. Always. She'd rather face the ugliness of reality head on and deal with it before it dealt with her. Michonne hadn't trusted these people when she'd first met them. Hell, one of them was the brother of a man who was hell bent on hunting her like an animal. Only Michonne wasn't about to be hunted by anyone and she'd turned the tables on Merle. She grimaced as Hershel cleaned out her wound. Even if it had cost her the mobility she was used to and relied on.

The thing was, the more she'd observed this group, the more they'd confused her. She'd seen what they'd all gone through to get back the woman. It had been a huge drain on resources they weren't exactly overflowing with. Michonne had looked at the woman called Carol when she'd been dragged in, looking more dead than alive. Thanks to the talkative Axel, she'd quickly discovered Carol wasn't a wife or mother to anyone in the group. From what Michonne saw, she didn't look like Carol would have been a particularly fierce fighter. Her value to the group had to be pretty limited when looking at things from a purely practical point of view. And yet everyone had rallied around her like there were no other priorities to be worried over, which there always were nowadays. Michonne had watched Merle's brother, half-dead himself, stay by the woman's side. Maybe they were lovers, unlikely as it was, that could explain his devotion. But then their leader, the one called Rick, had stayed up all night, watching over both of them. It had taken Michonne a moment to realise what she was seeing, watching this group work together with barely any consultation. They'd just rallied around, like it was an instinct more familiar than breathing. She was watching a family take care of one of their own. It had been so long since Michonne had seen something like that, she hadn't recognised it at first. Woodbury claimed the title but it was all smokes and mirrors, diverting away from the terrible truths which lay barely hidden beneath the surface. This rag tag group of survivors, holed up in a prison though, they were the real thing.

"That's healin' up real nice," observed the old man as he finished re-bandaging her leg. "I reckon you'll be back to full strength in another couple of days." He shot her a warning look. "Within reason, of course."

"Thank you," said Michonne stiffly, unfamiliar with being in anyone's debt.

"Reckon you'll be leavin' us then," he commented, watching her intently.

"Rick made it pretty clear that was the deal," said Michonne shortly. "I didn't ask for anyone's help."

"Mm," said Hershel in a noncommittal way which actually sounded like he had an opinion on the subject. "Reckon you've got another couple of days in our company anyways, one way or the other." Hershel stood up and half-smiled down at her. "Call if you need anythin'."

Michonne nodded and watched the older man leave, off to check on his next set of patients. She relaxed back against the wall of her cell and continued to contemplate this strange group and their obvious connections.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl started awake as he heard someone open the cell door. He sat up straight, not letting go of Carol's hand, which he'd taken in the middle of the night.

Hershel's voice was low and calming. "It's alright, son, it's just me."

Daryl untensed his muscles but didn't let go Carol's hand. He saw Hershel's gaze sweep over their linked fingers. "Carol was groanin' in the night," said Daryl quickly, by way of explanation. "It settled her down." He watched Hershel take a seat beside Carol and press a hand to her forehead. "How is she?" Daryl asked anxiously. "I think her breathin' is better."

Hershel nodded. "I think so too, fever looks to be beat as well."

Daryl had to look away abruptly as a tidal wave of relief rushed through him and threatened to overwhelm him. He knew Carol wasn't out of the woods yet, but the fact she'd made it through the night and seemed to have stabilised was a huge weight off Daryl's shoulders. He blinked back the sting of tears and cleared his throat. "You think we're over the worst of it?"

Hershel grimaced. "I never like to tempt fate with makin' those kinds of calls." He carefully pulled back Carol's t-shirt to look at the wound dressing. Hershel peeled back the dressing to take a closer look at the wound. "So far it don't look like there is any infection. If Carol can hold her own against all that blood loss, then I reckon she's got a fightin' chance." He looked at Daryl. "You want to give us a moment? I need to change these dressings."

Daryl reluctantly let go of Carol's hand and stood up, legs still a little shaky.

"Go get some food into you and we'll be done by then," Hershel instructed him calmly.

Daryl nodded and with a last look at Carol, he left her under Hershel's care. He headed out along the walkway and found Rick sitting on the top of the stairs, eating his breakfast, powdered eggs by the looks of it. "Hey."

"Hey," returned Rick easily.

Daryl looked down through the stairs to see Axel chatting to Beth as he had his breakfast as well. He frowned. "Yesterday is a bit of a blur to me," Daryl admitted. "I had this strange dream dumbass saved me from a Walker."

"Weren't no dream," said Rick, not looking up from his eggs. "He shot one tryin' to take a chunk outta you."

"Aw shit," muttered Daryl in annoyance.

Rick smiled. "Yeah, I know, but what are you gonna do, right?"

"Why did it have to be him?" asked Daryl unhappily.

"Would you have rather been bit than be saved by Axel?" When Daryl didn't answer right away, Rick prompted him. "Well?"

Daryl's expression was surly. "I'm thinkin' about it."

Rick gave a little laugh. "Sometimes you gotta take salvation when it's offered, no matter what brings it."

Daryl grunted, wishing he could argue with Rick. He headed on down the stairs.

Beth smiled when she saw him approach. "Hey Daryl, how you feelin'?"

"Better."

"You look better," observed Beth as she dished him up some breakfast. "And smell better too."

Daryl managed a small smile at her teasing as he accepted the plate of food. "Glad to hear it."

He turned and Axel was standing right in front of him, a big smile on his face. "You do look better," he concluded, looking Daryl over. "Yesterday you looked like a shit on a log."

Daryl scowled at him for the analogy and didn't want to admit he'd felt even worse than that. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Heard you took care of a Walker for me," he said gruffly. Daryl forced the next words out of his mouth, in part because he knew Carol would want him to. "Thanks."

Axel's whole face lit up in a huge grin at Daryl's mumbled words of gratitude.

He threw his arms around Daryl, catching him off guard. "You're welcome, buddy, anytime."

Daryl went completely rigid in Axel's embrace and it didn't help that he could hear Beth's giggling quietly behind him. "Get offa me," snapped Daryl, shrugging the man off him while still managing to hold onto his plate of eggs.

"Sure, sure," said Axel, still looking very pleased with himself. "I'm just glad we're friends now."

Daryl just stared at him, his expression anything but friendly.

Some of Axel's enthusiasm faded under Daryl's withering look but only some. "We'll just be the kind of friends who don't hug," he said and then was forced to continue to qualify their new understanding as Daryl stood their silently, "or I guess, talk much-" Daryl went to move past him. "Or make eye contact," finished off Axel as Daryl moved away to sit on the bottom of the stair.

Daryl steadfastly concentrated on his eggs, shovelling them into his mouth and attempting to ignore the still talking Axel.

"I was just glad I was there. You didn't look too great when you got back. Rick told us what happened to Merle." Axel hesitated as he looked around at the others. "Ah, sorry, I guess."

Daryl just kept eating, hoping Axel would get a clue.

"I mean, I know he weren't no ones favourite person and there was that whole kidnappin' thing and we never did find out if Merle was the one who left that gate open-"

"Axel, don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Rick interrupted him.

"No."

"In that case, do you mind checkin' on Carl for me? He's on the south watch tower, keepin' watch."

"Why?"

"Cause I asked nice."

Axel looked like he knew he'd done something wrong, but just wasn't sure what that was."Oh, okay, sure." He trotted off to do as Rick asked.

"If one more word had come outta that idiot's mouth, Hershel woulda had himself another patient," growled Daryl in annoyance.

Rick walked down the rest of the stairs and gave his now empty plate to Beth. "The guy does have a way 'bout him of gettin' under your skin."

"Yeah," grunted Daryl, "like scabies."

"Eww," laughed Beth, "gross."

Daryl wasn't about to change his mind on the subject, despite Axel's one off display of usefulness. In his opinion, Axel was like the broken hammer of the group, as tools go there wasn't much call for him but even a broken hammer can be used to scratch your ass now and then. He glanced up above their heads at where Hershel was still in with Carol. "I got somethin' to do today," Daryl told Rick. "I'm gonna be gone for a few hours." He deliberately left things that vague. What Daryl had planned was personal business and it didn't need to concern anyone else. "As long as Carol is still doin' okay."

Rick nodded and wisely didn't press for details. "Sure."

Daryl heard movement on the walkway and quickly finished off his eggs, eager to see how Carol was doing. He jumped up and set down his empty plate before heading back up the stairs to meet Hershel halfway.

"Wound looks good," replied Hershel to the question Daryl hadn't asked yet. "Hopefully Carol will wake up in a bit and be able to take some food or at least water."

Beth's voice came up from beneath them. "I'll make up some sugar water, just in case, Daddy."

"Good idea, honey," he called back down to her. "It'll be easier for Carol to take and help her get a bit of strength back to eat some real food."

Daryl gnawed on the inner side of his lip. "You reckon it'd be alright if I left her for a bit?" He frowned. "I don't want to but there's somethin' I gotta do."

"You got Carol through the worst of it," Hershel said calmly. "She's restin' much easier. You go do what you gotta do, son."

"But what happens if she wakes up and I'm not here?" fretted Daryl, caught between what the right thing was to do.

"Somethin' tells me Carol will understand," said Hershel simply. "You two are good with each other like that."

Daryl nodded, feeling a somewhat reassured. Carol would understand that this was just something he had to do. "Thanks, Hershel."

"Here to help," he replied steadily, continuing on his way.

Daryl hurried along the walk way to check in on Carol. Walking into her cell, he looked down at her pale features and this time she had much more of the appearance of simply being asleep. Daryl crouched down beside the bed and cupped her face, stroking Carol's cheek with his thumb. "I gotta take care of some family business," he told her quietly, "but I'm comin' right back, I promise." He leant forward and pressed a lingering kiss against Carol's thankfully cool forehead. "Don't you be doin' anythin' dumb while I'm gone," he whispered against her forehead. Daryl straightened up and made sure to tuck the blankets properly around Carol before leaving. He was at the door of the cell when he had to have a last look back over his shoulder, just to reassure himself Carol was still with him. During the night she'd been thrashing about and groaning so much Daryl had gotten worried and then she'd gone real still and that was when Daryl had gotten really frightened. Carol had stretched out her hand, as though she was grasping for something and Daryl had done the only thing he could. He'd grabbed hold of her outstretched hand and held on tightly. It was hard to explain, but it felt like he could have easily lost Carol in those moments, felt her fading away from him.

"_Don't leave me." _

The broken and pleading words had left Daryl's lips even though he had no idea if Carol could hear him. She must have though, on some level because Carol was still here and Daryl didn't have that same fear he'd spent most of the night with. He was still as worried as hell, but even without Hershel telling him so, Daryl had felt like Carol had turned a corner. It was still good to hear it from the older man as well, mind you. Daryl didn't exactly trust his judgement when it came to Carol. Being with her messed with his head and emotions and it wasn't always easy to sort all those feelings and thoughts out into something which made sense. Weirdly though, Daryl felt like he only really made sense when she was with him. It was as confusing as hell and in the beginning Daryl hadn't liked all those conflicting emotions but now they felt a part of him and he'd no more live without them then he would willingly live without Carol. For a man who'd always run from feelings and conflict, it felt like an odd kind of relief to make peace with all of their tumultuousness and at last find a way with living with them all. "I'll be back soon," he said, feeling the need to promise Carol a speedy return once again. Daryl headed out of her cell and down the walkway, collecting his crossbow on the way. Rick was gone from downstairs when Daryl headed out to the maintenance room but he met the other man halfway.

Rick was walking towards him with two shovels in his hands and his rifle slung over his back.

Daryl frowned. "What are you doin'?"

Rick tossed one shovel to Daryl and kept walking. "What do you think I'm doin'?"

Daryl quickly turned around to catch Rick up. "This ain't your concern, Rick." Of course the other man had worked out what Daryl's errand was. It should have bothered Daryl that he was so transparent these days but he had more pressing concerns. Merle needed burying. His brother may have been a son of a bitch but he was still Daryl's brother. He wasn't going to let those biters chow down on him. Daryl had been unable to save Merle from himself, but at least he could bury him with some kind of dignity. "I got this."

Rick glanced at him briefly but didn't break his stride as the two men walked down the corridors of the prison, heading towards the exit leading to the front of the penitentiary. "I thought the understandin' between us was that we shared the heavy liftin'?"

Daryl looked away abruptly. "Merle took your boy. You don't gotta do this, Rick. I know you didn't have no time for my brother."

"I ain't doin' this for Merle," said Rick simply. They were outside now and Rick blinked up into the sunshine which already had some black clouds gathering. "Reckon we gotta get a move on. Don't want to be diggin' in the rain."

Rick started walking and Daryl fell into step beside him. It felt really good to realise Rick had his back with this and even better that no words of thanks were needed or expected. Daryl just needed to do this one last thing for Merle and then maybe both Dixon brothers could find some peace...


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N****: And here we are, guys, sooo close to the end! **

**I know I said I'd do to chapter 50, but I'm not sure if I've got two more chapters in this story – there might be only one. I'm notoriously bad at predicting how long things take me, but I do know for sure there is at least one more chapter after this one. Some more loose ends to tie up and then we'll be done – can you believe it? :D **

**Anyways, here's the chapter and I'll be getting on with the next one later on today, so hopefully it won't be far away. I definitely want this story done by this week as I'm going away next week with work and won't be able to write. **

**Hope you enjoy...**

**Chapter Forty Eight**

"The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off."  
_Gloria Steinem_

_Daryl came awake at the sound of rocks hitting his bedroom window. He scrambled out of bed and pulled up the window, looking down from the second floor of his house to see a grinning Merle below._

"_Well, hey there, little brother," Merle called up gleefully. "Ain't ya gonna get your ass down here to say hello to old Merle?" _

_Daryl grinned, not caring it was close to midnight as he rushed to throw some clothes on and go and greet his long lost brother. He'd only seen Merle a couple of times in the last three years, since Merle had stormed out of the house that day. Merle had come back to bury their mother last year, but he hadn't stayed long. Daryl ran down the stairs as fast as his still growing legs could carry him and then he was rushing out the door to throw himself into the arms of the waiting Merle. _

_His brother laughed at his enthusiasm. "Well, shit, boy, it ain't been that long." _

_Daryl blushed a little and pulled back from the hug. "It's been over a year." _

_Merle half-smiled. "I guess it has been." He glanced over at the house. "Is the old prick at home?" _

"_Nah, out drinkin'," said Daryl casually. "I don't reckon he'll be home tonight." _

_Merle nodded, understanding as he looked back at Daryl. "You doin' okay, little brother?" _

_Daryl still had the welts on his back from the last beating he'd taken at the hands of his daddy but he wasn't going to say nothing to Merle about it. There was no point. Merle had made a new life for himself and Daryl knew he couldn't go and live on the army barracks with his brother. There was no one who could change his life so there was no point in whining about it. Daryl shrugged. "Sure, yeah." He looked Merle over. "How come you ain't in uniform?" _

"_I'm on leave." _

_Daryl's expression brightened. "How long for?" _

"_For two days, but that was one and a half days ago. I gotta go back in the mornin'." _

_Daryl's face fell. "Oh." It was obvious to him that Merle had been partying pretty hard the last couple of days before getting around to seeing Daryl. His brother was swaying a little as he stood there and smelt like an ashtray. The way Merle's eyes were bouncing all around, Daryl was pretty sure he was also coming off of whatever shit he'd stuck into his body this time. _

_Merle poked his arm. "Hey, ain't you had a birthday this week?" _

"_Last month," Daryl corrected him. _

"_What does that make you now, twelve?" _

"_Thirteen." _

"_You drivin' yet?" _

_Daryl laughed. "No, I'm thirteen." _

"_Well, shit boy, that's plenty old enough to learn how to drive." Merle started to head towards their Dad's old truck. "Come on." _

_Daryl frowned. "Merle, what are you doin'?" _

"_I'm teachin' my little brother how to drive cause that old bastard is too lazy to," threw back Merle over his shoulder as he got to the truck and wrenched the door open. He pulled down sun visor and the keys slid out into his waiting hand. Merle turned around and jangled the keys at Daryl. "Come on, boy, time for you to learn how to be a man." His eyes went wide. "Les-lessin you'd prefer for Merle to get you some pussy," he said eagerly, voice slurring a little. "We could go down to that whore house outside of town and-"_

"_Drivin' is fine," said Daryl hastily. _

_Merle looked momentarily disappointed but then he grinned. "Then get your ass in here, boy." Daryl reluctantly walked over to the truck and climbed into the driver's seat. Merle was already in the passenger's seat. "Okay, let's see what you've got." _

_It wasn't as bad as Daryl had thought it would be. Merle turned out to be a pretty good teacher in the end and before long Daryl had mastered going smoothly from first to second gear, circling around their backyard. _

"_Alright," said Merle, nodding approvingly. "Reckon it's time to take this show on the road." _

_Daryl blanched. "Merle, I ain't got a licence." _

_Merle snorted. "You only need that if you get caught and we ain't gonna get caught, little brother." He pointed to the driveway. "Now, head on out and let's see what you can do on a real road." _

_Daryl was terrified but there was no way he'd let Merle down so he obediently directed the car along the driveway and out onto the street. Fortunately it was past one o'clock in the morning now, so the traffic wasn't exactly thick on the backstreets. Even so, Daryl's hands had a death grip on the wheel as he struggled to see over the wheel and keep his feet on the pedals. They bumped along the road at a painfully slow speed until Merle made him get into third gear. Daryl felt like he was travelling faster than the speed of light as he clung to that wheel and prayed there weren't going to be other cars on the road or worse, cops. Merle did not do well with authority figures. There would be no way them being intercepted by the police would be anything but a debacle, not with Merle on board. Amazingly, they made it around the streets without incident and it wasn't without some relief Daryl was able to pull into their driveway again, about half an hour later. _

"_We ain't done reversin'," noted Merle as he casually lounged in the passenger seat. "See if you can park this thing under the tree." _

_Daryl glanced over at the lemon tree Merle was pointing at. For some reason, their daddy had a particular fondness for this lemon tree which Daryl had always remembered in their backyard. The thing was nearly ten feet tall now and dominated the poorly maintained backyard. He shook his head nervously. "I don't reckon that's a good idea. What if I hit the tree?"_

"_You ain't gonna hit the tree," said Merle confidently._

"_But if I do, he'll kill me," fretted Daryl, feeling like he wasn't even overstating the situation. His father would beat him to an inch of his life if anything happened to that tree or the truck. _

"_Ain't nuthin' gonna happen," said Merle dismissively. "Now stop your bitchin' and put this thing in reverse, okay?" _

_Daryl's expression was pained as he drove further up the driveway and then put the truck in reverse, swinging hard so he could park it back under the lemon tree. "Tell me when I'm gettin' close," an anxious Daryl instructed his brother. Merle was twisted around, staring intently at the lemon tree, as though nothing else existed all of a sudden. "Merle!" said Daryl urgently, taking his foot off the gas pedal, even though he knew he was nowhere near the tree. "You ain't listenin', am I close?" _

_A darkness had come over Merle's face as he continued to just stare at that tree. "You ain't close enough, baby brother," he growled. Catching Daryl by surprise, Merle simultaneously grabbed the steering wheel and planted his foot down over the top of Daryl's foot which was on the gas pedal. The car lurched backwards, the engine roaring as Merle forced it into its top speed over a very short distance. Daryl cried out in horror but it was all over too quickly. The back of the truck crashed into the tree with a force which shook the vehicle and both of its occupants. Daryl's head was whipped down onto the steering wheel at the same time there was an almighty crack behind them. Dazed and confused, Daryl opened the door and fell out of the truck, just in time to see the large lemon tree split itself down the middle, both halves falling to the ground with a noisy whoosh. Daryl's eyes went wide with horror and that was when the blood from the crack on his forehead got into them and he was forced to scrub at his eyes to get it out. _

"_WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!" _

_Daryl peered out from between his blood-covered hands to see his daddy standing there, drunk and as pissed off as Daryl had ever seen him. The blood froze in his young body as he knew this was going to end in a lot of violence._

_Merle staggered out from the other side of the truck and looked down at Daryl. "You okay, boy?" _

_Daryl was too scared to speak or take his eyes off their father, so he just nodded mutely. _

_Merle then turned to face off against their daddy. "The tree is dead," he bit out. "You got somethin' to say 'bout that, old man?" _

_Daryl looked on in amazement as his Dad's face went almost purple with rage and he started to shake in fear but then the impossible happened. Daryl had expected their Dad to launch himself at the both of them, beating them down but he just stood there, glaring death at Merle._

_Merle made a sneering sound. "Yeah, that's what I thought." _

"_You get your ass outta here, Merle," he snarled. "I don't want you steppin' foot on my land ever again, you hear me?" _

_Merle's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Oh, I hear you, you piece of shit. I've always heard you and I've always seen you." His lips twisted into an ugly smile. "I've seen what you've done." _

_Now it was the turn of their father to make a derisive sound. "And what, you reckon this is you makin' some kind of atonement?" He gave a bark of humourless laughter. "You ain't nuthin' but a pussy, Merle, a pussy who ain't never gonna know how to be a real man." _

_Merle's jaw came up. "And you do?" _

"_I ain't afraid to do what I gotta," said their father coldly. "I took care of my family's business, no questions asked." _

_Daryl had no idea what the two men were talking about as he looked between the two warily. They should be trying to tear each other apart by now but they weren't. The hatred between them was palpable though, it filled the backyard with its venom and tension. _

"_Is that what you're callin' what you did?" asked Merle scornfully. "Takin' care of business?" _

_The older man's smile was cruel. "What would you call it, Merle? After all, you were there." _

_Daryl saw Merle's fists clench and a vein pop out in his head and he flinched, sure this was going to be the time the two men tried to kill each other once and for all. _

_When Merle spoke, his voice was so full of icy rage it made Daryl shudder. "You ain't layin' a finger on the boy for this," he ground out. "Not if you know what's good for you, old man. This is done now, we ain't talkin' 'bout it no more." _

_Daryl really expected their daddy to laugh in his face but once again he was shocked. _

_Their father's face hardened. "Get in the house, boy," he said sharply, addressing Daryl, "and clean all that blood offa yourself. I don't want that shit all over the bathroom." _

_Daryl looked over at Merle, uncertain of what to do but his brother inclined his head, silently telling him it was okay. Daryl backed up slowly and when nothing happened to him, he turned around and ran back into the house, not sure what he'd just witnessed but feeling scared by it nonetheless._

**oooOOOOooo**

"Daryl!"

Rick's insistent voice had Daryl focusing back on the present as he abruptly stopped digging. He straightened up and looked at the man standing in the hole with him. "What?"

"I said, I reckon we've gone deep enough," repeated Rick. He cocked his head and looked at Daryl curiously. "Where were you?"

"I was just thinkin' 'bout my first drivin' lesson," said Daryl. He distractedly rubbed the scar on his forehead from that night. "Makin' sense of things, I guess." Daryl understood that night a lot more now, thanks to Merle's revelations. It didn't make anything any easier, just that bit clearer.

"I gotta get onto that with Carl," noted Rick. "He does okay, but I want him real confident behind the wheel. This life ain't gonna get any easier or forgivin' for inexperience."

Daryl nodded. "Ain't that the truth." He looked up at the dark sky above their head. "Reckon we'd better go and fetch Merle."

They'd decided to dig the grave for Merle before actually retrieving the body. It made sense not to have a rotting corpse attracting unwanted attention while they were trying to dig.

"I reckon so too." Rick was pulling himself up out of the grave as Daryl did the same.

It didn't take the two men very long to get to the clearing where the cabin was. They'd intentionally made the grave an easy distance from the cabin, so there wasn't going to be the need for extended carrying of Merle's body. He and Rick paused by the edge of the clearing, taking in the couple of Walkers at the far side of the open space.

"If we can get into the cabin without them noticin', we'll have some breathin' room," noted Rick.

Daryl nodded and then the two of them was sneaking up on the other side of the cabin, keeping the wooden structure between them and the two aimless Walkers. They both slipped inside the cabin and were confronted with the smell of Merle's decomposing corpse. Daryl grimaced against the smell, glad he hadn't left it any longer to come back for his brother. He steeled himself to walk over to where Merle was still lying face down on the floor, the side of his head missing with bits of bone and brain exposed.

Rick was keeping watch on the outside through the windows. "You need a hand carryin' him?"

Daryl's jaw hardened, knowing that this was his burden to carry, in more ways than one. "Nah, I got this." It made more sense that one of them should have their hands free to protect against attacks anyways. He crouched down and hauled Merle's dead weight off the floor, which was no mean feat. Daryl steadied himself as he slung Merle over his shoulder, redistributing his weight to try and be able to move the easiest. "Ready," he grunted to Rick.

Rick nodded and then led the way out of the cabin. They made it back into the woods without those two Walkers in the clearing ever having noticed but it wasn't very long before another Walker crossed their path. Rick dealt with it quickly and quietly and they moved on. Another two Walkers staggered into their way but Rick handled them as well without any kind of real effort. A few minutes later, they were at the grave they'd just finished digging. Without being asked, Rick was there to help lower Merle into the grave, saving Daryl from having to unceremoniously dump his brother from a great height. Once Merle was in the hole, they both worked quickly to cover him back up again, conscious their activities wouldn't go unnoticed for too much longer. When they were done, Daryl stood back and surveyed the mound of freshly turned over dirt, heavy from the rain of the last couple of days.

He looked around for something to mark the grave and spied a large rock with a jagged line of black through the middle of it. The thing was quite distinctive. Daryl walked over and picked it up, forced to use both hands because of the size and the weight of the stone. He placed it at the head of Merle's grave and looked down at it solemnly. Rick stood off to one side, giving Daryl his space as he said his final goodbyes to his brother. Merle was taking a piece of Daryl with him into that grave, there was no way around it. Shared experiences, moments between brothers that only they'd ever know. It wasn't all good, in fact, most of it was bad, but it was still theirs and theirs alone. Daryl crouched down and put his hand on the rock. "Goodbye, brother," he said quietly. There was nothing much more to say, nothing that would change anything anyway. Daryl could only hope Merle had found some kind of peace at long last, the kind of peace this life had refused to grant him. He slowly straightened up and then took a step back, still staring at the grave.

"You ready?" Rick's hand was on Daryl's back. "We got folks waitin' on us back at the prison."

"Yeah," rasped Daryl, thinking of all the people who were his family now, seeing all of their faces so clearly, especially Carol's. "Yeah, I'm done here." Daryl turned around and without a backwards look he started to walk back towards the prison. It was only Merle's body buried in that ground, the truth about his brother Daryl carried with him with each step. The good, the bad and the ugly, it was all Merle's gift to him and Daryl wasn't about to forget any of it. He and Rick walked in silence for a while before Rick spoke.

"What do you make of Michonne?"

Daryl sent him a quick glance. "I ain't had time to form no real opinion."

"Hershel said she could be on her way in a coupla days."

Daryl chewed on the inside of his lips, a habit he had when he was thinking. "She knows where we're at, knows 'bout the prison. You reckon she'd go back to Woodbury?"

Rick frowned. "I don't think so. She ain't been real complimentary 'bout that place."

"Woodbury's gonna be an issue," Daryl predicted. "We found out 'bout them, how long is it gonna take before they find out 'bout us?"

"I know," said Rick grimly. "Michonne might come in handy with knowin' the lay of the land over there."

Daryl kept all emotion out of his voice. "You thinkin' of askin' her to stay?"

"She ain't shown no interest in stayin'."

"That one plays her cards close to her chests. Don't reckon it'd be easy to know what she's thinkin', one way or the other. That's why it may not be so smart to just let her stroll outta our camp."

Rick sighed. "I know."

Daryl shrugged. "You make a play, I'll back it."

"And if it's the wrong play?"

"Then shit happens," said Daryl philosophically.

Rick half-smiled. "That's real profound, Daryl."

"Yeah, that's what they call me, Profound Daryl," he deadpanned. "People used to come from all over to listen to my pearls of wisdom."

Rick laughed and Daryl couldn't help but smile even as his thoughts were drifting back to the prison and how Carol was doing. It was another hour before they were back at the prison and it was Maggie who was on duty at the gate and let them in.

"Carol's awake," she said quickly, before either men could speak.

Daryl's eyes went wide. "She's awake?"

Maggie smiled, looking very relieved. "'Bout an hour ago, she woke up and has been able to take some food, not much, but it was somethin'."

Daryl's heart was pounding in his chest. "Is she okay?"

"She's weak but makin' sense," said Maggie tremulously. "Daddy said we couldn't hope for better than that."

Daryl stood frozen to the spot, assailed with so many emotions he couldn't function in that moment.

Maggie slapped his arm. "What you doin', stupid?" she chastised him good-naturedly. "I reckon Carol might want to see you, don't you?"

Daryl nodded mutely and then he finally managed to get his limbs to co-operate as he broke into a run, bolting back the rest of the way into the prison. He was out of breath when he made it into the cellblock and Hershel met him at the door.

The older man held out a steadying hand. "Now then, son, take a breath and settle yourself. Carol don't need no one flappin' round her. Just go easy with her, okay? She's been awake for awhile now and is real tired."

Daryl was angry for himself for not being there when Carol woke up but there was nothing to be done about it now. He pulled his crossbow off his shoulder as he mounted the stairs two at a time and hung it over the top of the railing before making a bee line towards Carol's cell. He stopped just before getting to the cell and ran a nervous hand through his hair. He didn't know why he was so anxious at seeing Carol awake for the first time in nearly a day. This was what he'd been so desperate for and now it was here, Daryl was a bundle of nerves. He walked slowly up to the cell door and looked inside. Carol was propped up on the bed, eyes closed and a blanket tucked in around her. Daryl clenched at the door way, knuckles going white as he stared at her.

Her eyes flickered open and she looked over at him, a small smile touching her still pale lips. "Daryl," she whispered.

The sound of his name on her lips, it was all Daryl had been aching to hear since he'd nearly lost her in that river. Huge emotions engulfed him as Carol held out a hand to him. He walked towards her on unsteady legs before dropping down beside her bed and taking her hand in his. There were a million things he needed to say to her. Daryl needed to tell her he was so happy she hadn't left him, that he was sorry he'd let her get hurt and that he was so in love with her that he couldn't see straight. All those things were too important to put off saying for another moment but Daryl's throat closed over and nothing could escape his lips other than a broken sob. Carol was alright, she was looking at him, smiling at him and Daryl's whole world started again. It had come to an abrupt halt the moment Carol had been shot and he'd come so close to losing her but she'd come back to him and it was all too much for Daryl. For the first time since he was a small child Daryl dissolved into tears, raw emotion too much for him to handle as his face crumbled and painful sobs tore through his body. He dropped his face into Carol's neck and immediately felt her comforting hand go to the back of his head, stroking his hair.

"Daryl."

Her soft voice saying his name had Daryl crying even harder as everything was released in him at once. A wave of tears came for the little boys growing up in a household of hate and terror, for a father he'd never know, the love story stolen from his mother and a brother wracked by guilt. All the pain, all the loss and suffering, the tears came at last when before Daryl had never allowed himself the release of grieving for all that had happened in his life. But the tears weren't only for the losses but what he'd gained too. It was overwhelming knowing that he was finally a part of something bigger than himself. Daryl wasn't alone anymore and the woman holding him in her arms was the most precious thing of all... home. He buried his face deeper into Carol's neck and for the first time in his life, Daryl let the tears flow freely and didn't feel any shame...


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N****: Hello all, thank you for joining me for the penultimate chapter. :D **

**I've decided there will be on little bit of Caryl fluff after this chapter, taking us to a neat 50 chapters. It won't be long but should round things off nicely. **

**I'm resisting the urge to turn this into an Oscar's speech with thanking everyone but I do really want to thank everyone for going on this ride with me. It turned out to be so much longer than I'd originally planned and you were all so wonderfully supportive that it really has been great fun for me. Thank you once again to everyone who has read, commented, faved and followed this story. I really am blown away by people's enthusiasm for this fic. I'm truly humbled and grateful.**

**Hmm... I said I didn't want to do an Oscar speech, didn't I? .**

**Anyways, thank you all and I hope you'll find this chapter satisfying and a fitting almost end to this story...**

**Chapter Forty Nine**

Carol sat up in her bed, quietly folding the washing. She'd been bed bound for these last two days, sleeping a lot and just generally trying to get back to feeling halfway normal. When she'd opened her eyes a couple of days ago, it was with a strange sense of renewed purpose. Carol had been given the chance to opt out from all of this hardship, even the tantalising chance to be with Sophia again, at least, that was what it'd felt like at the time. But she hadn't let go, she'd fought her way back to this life which was full of uncertainty and fear and Carol didn't regret it for a moment. Especially when she'd seen Daryl. She'd been frightened when she'd woken up and Daryl wasn't there, fearing she'd only dreamt of his escape by her side. Glenn had been quick to reassure her that everyone was safe and sound. Everyone except Merle, that was. Carol didn't have to ask where Daryl was then. She knew he'd be burying his brother. The last act of kindness to be given to the eldest Dixon brother, one even Merle couldn't stop from happening. Carol's heart had ached for both Daryl and Merle, so much loss and pain between the two of them but unable to give each other what they both needed.

When Daryl had turned up at her door, smelling of dirt and sweat, Carol knew it had been done. Merle was laid to rest and Carol could only pray that it would truly be a rest for the man who'd wilfully courted so much pain in his life. She hadn't expected Daryl's flood of tears, but Carol had understood them. Just holding onto Daryl, she let him just cry, releasing everything that he'd kept bottled up inside of him for so long. Even after he'd shed his last tear, Daryl had stayed in her arms and Carol was glad. She was too weak to talk much more than say his name but she needed for Daryl to know she was there for him, no matter what. It felt like they'd lived a whole life time in the last few days and it was like a balm for them to just be together and be still. That was one of their greatest gifts when it came to each other, words were optional. A soft smile touched Carol's face at the thought. She and Daryl still needed to talk about what had happened out there in that cabin. Carol knew Daryl had been studiously avoiding any mention of their moments of intimacy. She didn't blame him because to be honest, Carol hadn't been up to much talking until today anyways. Even something as simple as folding washing was tiring her out. She resented being so incapacitated, wanting to feel like she was pulling her weight with the group again but Carol knew there was nothing to be about it. The fact that she was even still alive was some kind of miracle, so a bit of recovery time shouldn't be begrudged she supposed. "That's your third walk by," called out Carol calmly as Rick once again walked by her cell door. "One more and I'm gonna have to report you as a stalker."

Rick reappeared at her doorway and looked a little sheepish.

Carol glanced up from her folding, a teasing smile on her face. "You know any lawmen I can report such a thing to?"

Rick gave a little laugh. "Fortunately for me, no, not nowadays." He leant against the cell door frame. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'm a little over that question," said Carol wryly. "Even if I do appreciate the sentiment."

"You gave us all a hell of a scare."

Carol pulled a face. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"I'm just glad you're alright." A shadow came over Rick's face and he grimaced. "Carol, I-"

"Don't even think about it," she interrupted him firmly.

Rick's expression was one of surprise. "What?"

"You were going to be ridiculous and apologise for getting me shot," said Carol calmly. "And I don't want to hear such talk."

"I couldn't see who Merle was pointing that gun at from where I was at the window," said Rick contritely. "If I hadn't pulled the trigger, then Merle might not have shot you."

"You don't know that," Carol said quietly. "Heck, I don't even think Merle knew what he was going to do. All I know is that you risked your life to come looking for Daryl and me and to get us back here safely. There is no good reason for you second guess that, Rick Grimes. You've just to take a chance sometimes and hope it all works out for the best. You never know what life is going to hand you next."

Rick half-smiled. "Like in that movie, life's like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get."

Carol wrinkled her nose. "You know, I never understood that analogy. Every chocolate box I know comes with a key showing all the different kinds of chocolates and what flavour they are. Just look at the damn key, people. It isn't hard. Life, in my experience is nothing like a box of chocolates. It's more like my grandmother's jambalaya. Now, with _that_ thing you never knew what you were putting in your mouth next. "

Rick laughed out loud and Carol grinned. He shook his head. "She wasn't a good cook, huh?"

"Let's just say she was an opportunistic one," said Carol wryly. "If anything with six or less legs got too close while she had a hammer in her hand, they usually ended up in one of her stews." She gave a fond smile of remembrance. "Grams would have done just fine surviving a zombie apocalypse."

"Sounds like she'd give Hershel's stew a run for his money."

"And then some."

Rick came and sat on the end of the bed, taking in the folding Carol was working on. "You know you don't have to do that. You should be conserving your strength."

"I need to do something. Sitting here doing nothing is driving me mad."

"You're not doing nothing, you're healing. Broken ribs, a gunshot wound and nearly bleeding out isn't something you just shake off."

Carol knew what Rick was saying was true. She looked down at the shirt in her hand, Carl's to be exact. "You know, I think I died," she said softly. Carol looked up and saw Rick looking at her wide-eyed. "Just for a second," she continued on quickly. Carol bit her bottom lip, unsure she should share this. "I-I saw Sophia." She looked at Rick uncertainly, uncertain what he'd make of that.

Rick reached out and took Carol's hand, squeezing it gently. "That must have been wonderful," he paused, "and incredibly hard."

Carol's expression was grateful for his understanding, one parent to another. It had filled her mother's heart with joy to see Sophia again but it had meant another saying another heart-wrenching goodbye when Carol had decided to continue to live rather than let go. "You know that feelin', that feelin' that you don't think you can live without something?" asked Carol quietly. "And you don't know what scares you more, that you might be proven right or-"

"Or?" Rick prompted her.

"Or you might be proven wrong, and you keep on living without them and every day feels like a huge betrayal of their memory," said Carol hopelessly.

"You livin' on after Sophia ain't a betrayal of her memory," said Rick gently. "You gotta know that, Carol."

Her expression softened. "I do," said Carol huskily. "I really do. It was seeing Sophia again which gave me the strength to fight to hang onto life. She doesn't need me right now but-"

"Others do," finished off Rick. "One in particular. I don't like to think what Daryl would have done if you hadn't made it, Carol. He was hangin' by a thread."

Carol nodded slowly. "I guess we both were when it came down to it."

"Count me as another person who's glad that thread didn't snap," said Rick quietly. "This group needs you, Carol. You're important to each of us."

Carol's heart swelled to hear what she already knew in every fibre of her being. She'd found her place, her fresh start and it just happened to be in a decaying world. The irony wasn't lost on Carol as she covered Rick's hand with her own, the two of them smiling warmly at each other.

**oooOOOOooo**

Daryl flicked his eyes up to Carol's cell as he continued cleaning his crossbow on the bottom rung of the stairs. He could hear the sound of Rick and Carol's voices drifting down to him, but now what they were saying. Above him, on the top of the stairs, Maggie and Glenn were chatting.

Maggie gave a little laugh. "How cute are those two? You can just tell he's dying for a kiss."

Daryl scowled, his head snapping up to look at Carol's cell with concern. He couldn't see from where he was and was forced to resist the urge to jump up and see for himself what the hell was going on in there.

"Puppy love," agreed Glenn in amusement. "So much fun."

Daryl twisted around so he could look back up at Glenn and Maggie and saw they were looking out at the entrance of the sleeping quarters. He followed their gaze to see Beth and Carl standing and talking out in the holding area before it opened up to their cell block. Carl was grinning, fingers hooked in the back of his jeans and fidgeting a little nervously on the spot while Beth smiled sweetly at him. A warm rush of relief ran through Daryl when he realised they were talking about the teenagers and not about Carol and Rick. A last lingering gift from Merle – unwanted jealous thoughts. Daryl loved Rick like a brother and Carol he loved like, well, Carol. He trusted them both with his life and more but when it came to Carol, it appeared logic need not apply. Daryl looked down at the crossbow in his hand, the one he'd cleaned twice already, just sitting there and thinking about the last little while. That woman had a hold of him which should have terrified him and sometimes it did. His emotions about Carol were always threatening to spiral out of control at any given moment and yet weirdly, he'd never felt so much peace as when he was around her. Daryl had to wonder if there was ever going to be a way to make sense of feeling this way about another person. Probably not, that sure as hell would explain all those damn love songs that had been written over all of history. At some point though, Daryl had just stopped trying to figure it all out. He and Carol where what they were. The only slight hiccup with that way of looking at things was that Daryl didn't know exactly what Carol was thinking when it came to what she thought they were.

Daryl moved a little uncomfortably in his seat, grimacing to himself. Those moments in the cabin, before reality in the form of Merle had intruded, had meant so much to Daryl but even he wasn't sure what he wanted them to mean going forward. Did Carol expect for them to be a couple like Glenn and Maggie now? Daryl glanced up at the two lovebirds, talking in low voices to one another now. Glenn had his arms around Maggie's waist as she leant into him, while Glenn murmured something into her ear. The easy familiarity of two lovers confident in their relationship. Daryl hadn't had much experience with seeing such a thing before finding this group, but he knew what he was looking at now. The thing was, did Carol expect Daryl to walk around holding her hand now and whisper sweet nothings into her ear? The thought made Daryl nervous. He liked the silent understanding everyone in the group seemed to have about the two of them. Daryl didn't want it pointed out and commented on. What was between him and Carol was private and he wanted to keep it that way but maybe Carol didn't. Women liked guys to be upfront, didn't they? Declare their intentions to anyone who'd listen. Daryl wasn't sure he could do that, despite how deeply his feelings for Carol ran. He threw down his oily rag in annoyance over how his thoughts were just chasing themselves around in his head. Daryl knew he needed to talk to Carol about all of this, but she'd been so weak and tired that he knew he couldn't. Then there was the growing fear as to what Carol might say. As scared as he was of Carol wanting the kind of relationship like Maggie and Glenn, Daryl was even more afraid Carol would want to put some distance between them and he knew he didn't want that. Carol had every piece of him that Daryl had to give and he didn't know what he'd do if she chose to walk away with all of those pieces.

Daryl could still hear Carol and Rick talking. He stood up, deciding to casually look in on Carol and make sure the other man wasn't wearing her out. Daryl knew this enforced resting was hard on Carol, she felt guilty for not being able to contribute like she was used to. He knew she was the only one who was worried about it though. Everyone else had just stepped in to fill the holes without even being asked. It's just what they did. Daryl laid down his crossbow and turned around, heading up the stairs and giving a brief nod to the loved up couple at the top of the stairs as he passed. They smiled back and then went back to being absorbed in each other. Daryl walked along until he was at Carol's cell and stopped in the doorway. "Hey," he said unevenly, gaze taking in how closely Rick was sitting next to Carol. Daryl was forced to order himself to stop being an idiot as he smiled at them both. "How's the patient?"

Carol sent him a warm, albeit tired-looking smile. "Starting to flag a bit unfortunately."

"I've been wearin' you out with all of my talkin'," said Rick and shook his head at himself for his thoughtlessness. "You need to just rest now, Carol, like I said in the beginnin'."

"I was the one doin' the talkin'," Carol corrected him indulgently.

"Well, I'm gonna leave you be now," said Rick firmly as he stood up. "I only came in to apologise." He looked at Daryl. "I guess I need to do the same with you too, Daryl, when it comes to Merle. You have to know, if there had been some other way to stop him-"

Daryl interrupted his apology. "There wasn't another way, Merle made sure of that." He looked Rick steadily in the eye. "That was just how he was." Rick nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.

Rick stooped down and picked up the washing Carol had just finished folding. "I'll take these, you get some sleep, missy."

Carol half-smiled. "Yes, boss."

Rick headed out of the cell and Daryl went to follow him, seeing how tired Carol looked but she stalled him.

"Daryl."

He turned back and looked at her expectantly.

"Come lie with me for a bit," she asked, reclining onto the pillows behind her carefully. Carol gingerly moved over, making space for him. She patted the hard prison mattress by way of silent invitation.

"You need to get some rest," said Daryl, even as he complied, easing himself onto the bed and being careful of not bumping Carol unnecessarily.

"I want to talk to you more," she said determinedly. "Sleep can wait."

Daryl settled into the bed next to her, feeling his nerves tighten again. He gave her a vaguely uncertain smile. "Okay."

"A lot has happened to you in the last week," said Carol softly.

"A lot has happened to both of us."

"True but you've lost a lot, Daryl. Merle was the last of your family."

Daryl's lips tightened. "If you could call what I had a family."

"It was, dysfunctional as it was, it was still a family. Just like me, Ed and Sophia were one."

Daryl waited, not sure where this was going. He started to gnaw on the inside of his lip, scared Carol was going to answer the questions he'd just been pondering on the steps and not sure he was ready for that.

Carol's expression was serious. "I just want you to know that I meant what I said that day in the cabin."

Daryl tensed, trying to think what Carol was referring to.

She was holding his gaze unblinkingly. "Nothing has to change," she prompted him quietly. "You and me, I don't need anything more than what we have right now. I need you to know that."

Daryl's eyes widened a little. "Wh-what do we have right now?" he forced the question out through suddenly dry lips.

Carol smiled and went to cup his face, grimacing a little as her broken rib protested the simple action. "You want to know what one of the great things about a zombie apocalypse is?" she asked, stroking his face with her thumb.

Carol's touch was a comforting one and Daryl felt himself relax a little bit. "No more reality TV?"

Carol gave a little laugh and then sucked in a pained breath. "Don't make me laugh," she groaned complainingly. "Yes, that is a good thing but the other good thing is that there aren't any more rules, not like there used to be. We get to make them up as we go along." Carol leant her head in towards Daryl, resting her forehead against his. "I think that's what we should do," she said huskily. "Make the rules up as we go along. What we have isn't usual, Daryl, but I've had the package which looks so neat from the outside and it nearly killed me." Carol bit her bottom lip. "However this relationship ends up being tomorrow and the next day and all the days after that is up to us. We don't have to do anything we don't want to."

Daryl couldn't stop staring at Carol, her words exactly what he needed to hear to remind himself of who they were. They were Daryl and Carol and they didn't fit into some neat definition of what a couple should be. He felt himself relax completely now that he could see Carol being completely on board with that.

Carol gave him a tender smile. "Labels are overrated. We just are what we are, Daryl, and I'm completely happy about that. I love you but I hope you already know that."

"I-I-" rasped Daryl, trying to return the words which Carol had just overwhelmed him with. Daryl had loved his brother but that love was so different to what he felt for Carol. It was all so foreign to him as he choked on the words.

"It's alright," she assured him calmly. "I don't need the words back. I know you, Daryl, I know how you feel about me. You show me that every day. Ed used to tell me he loved me all the time, particularly after he'd just given me a beating. Words don't mean anything, it's actions which tell the true story." Carol gave him a loving smile. "How we are with one another, that's always going to tell our real story, not some neat label."

Daryl was fighting back emotional tears, really not wanting to cry again but Carol was making it really hard for him. It was everything Daryl had been waiting to hear his whole life from a woman without ever realising it. Everything about Carol was a perfect fit for him, particularly her imperfections. Daryl didn't know how to say all of that and make any kind of sense. Instead, he decided to do just what Carol had said with actions speaking louder than words. Daryl closed the small space between them and kissed her. It was a much more practiced kiss then his first clumsy attempts and Daryl felt Carol melt into this small intimacy. The taste of her was back in his mouth and everything felt impossibly right with the world. Daryl felt invincible, as though nothing could ever touch him again. They finally broke the tender kiss and then they were both smiling at each other, all the tension drained away in the light of their new understanding. Daryl lay on his side, looking at Carol as they lay pressed up against each other on the tiny bed, marvelling that this woman had come into his life.

"You know, Axel says he thinks love is like a punch in the face."

Daryl was caught off-guard by the mention of the other man's name but then he snorted. "With him it probably is."

Carol smiled. "He says it's because you don't always see it comin' until it's too late and it always leaves it mark on you. In a roundabout way, that kind of makes sense." Her smiled widened. "Oh, and he also mentioned the best way to dislodge a gobsmacker stuck in your throat is to get hit by a car." She pulled a face. "If you don't mind gettin' both arms broke in the process."

Daryl was confused now. "What the hell does all that mean?"

Carol wrinkled her nose prettily and Daryl was immediately distracted by it. "Now that you mention it, I'm not sure. Talkin' to Axel is like dreaming. When you're in your dream, everything seems to make sense, but when you wake up and try and tell someone else about it, it just sounds garbled and confused."

"You two seem to have gotten real chatty since I was gone." There was a note of irritation in Daryl's voice he couldn't hide. He just didn't like Axel around her, despite the guy's momentary competence in saving his life. Daryl couldn't help but be overly cautious when it came to Carol. "I thought I told you to stay away from him?"

Carol arched an eyebrow at him. "You're not the boss of me, Daryl Dixon. I'll talk to who I want," she sassed him. "I think you'd like Axel if you gave him a chance."

Daryl made a frustrated snorting noise. "That dumbass is tryin' to kill you." He glowered at the wall, remembering all the close calls. "Dumbass."

"He's not tryin' to kill me," said Carol indulgently.

"The fact he comes so close to it without tryin' only makes it worse," said Daryl in annoyance. "I ain't gonna keep havin' this conversation with you, Carol. You've survived for over a year in the middle of a zombie apocalypse and that ain't nuthin'. I don't want you to be taken down by dumbass cuttin' his toenails or somethin' and managin' to open an artery on you."

"How would that be even possible?"

"If there's a way, he'll find it," grumbled Daryl.

"He just gets nervous and accidents happen. I want you to try and be nicer to Axel, Daryl, put him at ease, then these things won't happen."

"You sayin' I'm the cause of all of this?" he asked in disbelief.

"I'm sayin' you can either be part of the solution or part of the problem." She smiled at him sweetly. "And I'm askin' you nicely to be part of the solution."

Daryl was discovering he had a hard time saying no to her these days. His eyes narrowed. "Okay," he said begrudgingly, "but if he ends up killin' you-"

"Then you can say I told you so," she finished off easily. "Come on now, he did save your life."

Daryl grimaced. "Who told you?"

"Everyone," said Carol in amusement. "It was the source of much wonder for the group. Just like your little moment with Axel when you thanked him."

"He hugged me," said Daryl in disgust, screwing his face up as though he was sucking on a lemon. "What the hell is that?"

"We're a family," said Carol philosophically. "Every family has the weird uncle you don't leave alone with combustible things." Carol looked thoughtful. "Looks like Rick is considerin' addin' to the family too. You know 'bout the meetin' he wants to call?"

Daryl nodded. "Yeah, wants to talk about askin' Michonne to stay." He looked at her curiously. "What do you think?"

"I've spoken with her a couple of times and she seems very damaged and withdrawn but really knows how to handle herself when the chips are down." Carol half-smiled. "We've had good luck with those kinds in the past."

He smiled at her implied praise but had to point something out. "What about Merle?" countered Daryl. "That wasn't exactly good luck."

Carol gave a little shrug. "A fifty percent success rate ain't bad. Besides, I reckon Merle would have come round in the end if there had been more time." She sighed. "I think bad timin' was always Merle's problem."

"It was on the list," agreed Daryl. "But it was a long list. We don't know how long Michonne's list will be."

"People are worth takin' chances on," said Carol simply, "no matter how it turns out. Otherwise, I don't know why we're tryin' so hard to stay alive. There has to be a point to survivin'." Carol looked wistful. "To my mind, people are that point."

Daryl just stared at her in quiet amazement. Carol had suffered a lot at the hands of many people in her life and yet she was still willing to be so generous. People might look at the group and see the likes of him, Rick and Glenn in the front line and call them brave but there was a kind of courage to a woman like Carol that wasn't immediately obvious. She'd been bent but not broken and come back stronger for all that she'd endured. Daryl couldn't help but admire the woman Carol had blossomed into. Watching her had opened his eyes to the possibilities lying hidden in a damaged person, people like the two of them. He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed tightly. He didn't know about all people, but for him, Carol was definitely the point. The thought brought a smile to Daryl's lips. He watched as Carol eventually drifted off to sleep, staying where he was despite the cramp he was getting in his leg. Daryl just watched her sleep and let himself taste contentment for the first time in his life...

**A/N****: I started this fic with stating that I didn't need to define the Caryl relationship and I'm happy to be able to end it in the same mindset. I'm leaving it open to folks to imagine where Caryl go from here. They're making their own rules and I love that about this couple. I feel like Carol and Daryl have embraced a lot of themselves as individuals during this fic and have become stronger because of that... and it's that newfound strength they're taking into this new relationship. 3**

**Alright, enough waxing lyrical about the joys of Caryl from me. **

**One last little chapter to go, guys. Hope you'll join me for it. ;) **


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N****: And here we are at long last, my little chickadees, the end of the story. :D**

**I can't believe I've been writing this story for so long! I just checked and I started in early January. That's crazy! LOL For what was originally only going to be a couple of chapters, this story certainly has evolved. I've had a ball exploring the dynamics of Caryl and everyone else in this story, so thank you one and all for joining me in that. **

**I'm heading off for a week with work but when I get back, I'm planning on posting the two parter prequel to this story, 'The Jonah', so keep an eye out for that one won't you? **

**So, thank you one last time and let's end with a little bit of fluff after all that I've put you through. Please enjoy...**

**Chapter FIFTY**

"We're all seeking that special person who is right for us. But if you've been through enough relationships, you begin to suspect there's no right person, just different flavors of wrong. Why is this? Because you yourself are wrong in some way, and you seek out partners who are wrong in some complementary way. But it takes a lot of living to grow fully into your own wrongness. And it isn't until you finally run up against your deepest demons, your unsolvable problems—the ones that make you truly who you are—that we're ready to find a lifelong mate. Only then do you finally know what you're looking for. You're looking for the wrong person. But not just any wrong person: the right wrong person—someone you lovingly gaze upon and think, "This is the problem I want to have."

I will find that special person who is wrong for me in just the right way.

Let our scars fall in love."

~Galway Kinnell~

Carol could feel his eyes on her. She could always feel his eyes on her. She gave no outward sign of knowing he was there though. Carol continued to stand under the stream of warm water coming from the shower head and didn't turn around. Life had set into as easy a rhythm as living in a post-apocalyptic world could as she'd slowly continued to heal. It was twelve days since she'd been shot and Carol was finally getting to enjoy the simple pleasure of a shower, rather than just washing herself down with a damp cloth. Her wound had healed enough that water couldn't get in and Carol was taking full advantage of it. She closed her eyes as she put her head under the stream of water and just enjoyed the sensation of feeling properly clean again. At least she would be once she got to work with that soap. Carol reached out blindly for the bar of soap she knew was sitting on the ledge behind her but couldn't find it. Pulling her head out of the shower stream, she blinked the water out of her eyes and looked around. Immediately she spied Daryl standing at the edge of the shower now, having come into the room. He held the soap in his hand. Carol smiled. "I think you've got something I want," she teased him. Things had been so wonderful between them these last couple of weeks. They'd just reverted back to an ease between them that warmed Carol from the inside out. Daryl was someone she could laugh, cry and whisper secrets with. He was her best friend and Carol never felt so safe and content as when Daryl was with her.

Physical intimacy beyond a few stolen kisses had been impossible for them so far, because of her injuries. Truth be told, Carol knew she still wasn't up to anything along those lines at the moment, even though she wasn't sure that was what Daryl wanted anyway. It surprised her how little that bothered her, not knowing. After their talk where Carol had reassured Daryl that they could just make this up as they went along, things had been very comfortable between them. She didn't know if Daryl wanted to continue the sexual aspect of their relationship and that didn't worry Carol at all. They were so much more than just sex. Their intimacy didn't start and stop with a physical act and Carol relished that. There was no expectation from either side, so, if it happened, it happened. Carol knew Daryl enjoyed kissing her, having become more than proficient in that simple little intimacy but this was the first time things had moved past that in watching her shower. Mind you, nothing had happened so far but Carol was standing their completely naked and Daryl wasn't exactly looking away.

Daryl didn't answer her loaded question, just gave the barest of smiles instead. He inclined his head for her to come closer and Carol did just that, stepping out of the cascade of water. The fully clothed Daryl reached out the hand holding the soap and wet the bar under the shower, then he was gently turning Carol around. She couldn't help but give a contented sigh at the first touch of the soap to her skin. Daryl worked the bar of soap methodically over her body, along her shoulders, down the sweep of her back and the back of Carol's legs. Still crouched down behind her, Daryl gently turned her around, so that she was facing him now. Daryl's hand with the soap slid up the front of legs and then higher. He was at her hips when he blushed a little, flicking an uncertain look up at Carol, as though asking for permission to continue. Carol found Daryl's blushes to be the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. She took his hand and guided it over the apex of her thighs, holding his gaze. He slowly straightened up, the soap gliding over her stomach and being very careful to keep away from her wounded side.

Daryl stared at the slowly healing wound and then lifted his head to capture her gaze. "You're gonna have a bad scar," he said quietly.

Carol glanced down at her side and lifted one shoulder. "It's not the first, I doubt it'll be the last," she said easily. They both knew the truth of that statement.

Daryl reached out with his hand and very tenderly traced down one side of the damaged flesh. "That was the last thing Merle did in this world and it's on your body."

Carol blinked in surprised, immediately recalling how she'd commented on the scar in Daryl's side from the time he'd found Sophia's doll. A little tremor ran through her body at the fact they both had such an important part of each other's history seared into their flesh. Carol cupped his face with her hand. "I know," she said simply.

Daryl covered her hand with his own and they shared a look of understanding between them. He then gently moved Carol gently backwards, so she was under the falling water from the shower head again. Daryl stayed close and was immediately soaked in the spray as well.

"Another bath," she whispered, lips twitching with tender amusement. "This is becomin' a habit even if-"

"I know," he rasped, staring down at her intently. "I'm doin' it wrong."

Carol knew Daryl was referencing the fact that he was still fully clothed and getting completely drenched but she gave a little shake of her head. "No," she said huskily, "you're doin' it perfectly, trust me."

A shy smile came to Daryl's lips as Carol lifted one arm and put it around his neck. She couldn't lift her other arm because of her still healing ribs but Daryl slipped his arm around her good side and drew her closer, the water coursing over the both of them. Daryl bent his head, capturing her lips with his own and Carol smiled into his kiss, delighting in his slowly growing confidence with her. She knew Daryl was never going to be big on romantic displays and words but if they could continue to have moments like these, she definitely didn't need them. Just before she lost herself in his kisses, Carol couldn't help but think about all the things which had brought them to this point in their lives. All the pain and suffering, all the horrors they'd both endure and Carol found herself not begrudging those hardships. Their brokenness only made these moments all the sweeter. There was no guarantee for the future, but truth be told, there never had been. The here and the now was all Carol needed with Daryl by her side.

Tomorrow could take care of itself...


End file.
